Labo Discovers the Starlight Library's Greatest Secret

Labo's collar jingled as he bounded up the clocktower steps, his tail wagging with anticipation. The Starlight Library was his favorite place in the entire town—shelves spiraling upward toward a ceiling that glimmered with constellations, reading nooks tucked into corners where golden light pooled like honey.

But today, something felt wrong.

Mrs. Chen, the elderly librarian, stood wringing her hands near the entrance. "Labo! Thank goodness you're here." Her voice trembled. "The books are disappearing. Not stolen—they're simply vanishing from the shelves. The children's section is nearly empty!"

Labo's brown eyes widened. He'd grown up surrounded by stories, learning patience during long reading sessions with his family's youngest daughter. Books mattered. He trotted toward the children's section, nose twitching as he analyzed the air.

There—a faint scent of old parchment and ink, leading toward the astronomy section.

He followed the trail up a spiral staircase, his sturdy frame navigating the narrow steps with practiced ease. The scent grew stronger near a forgotten alcove behind the planetary charts. Labo peered into the shadows and spotted movement: a small creature with shimmering, iridescent skin, frantically stuffing books into a leather satchel.

The bookworm froze, tiny spectacles catching the starlight.

"Please don't stop me," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Nobody reads my stories anyway. Nobody cares."

Before Labo could respond, the bookworm grabbed another armful of books and squeezed through a crack in the wall, disappearing into the clocktower's hidden passages. The opening sealed behind him with a soft shimmer of magic.

Labo scratched at the wall, but it remained solid. The trail had gone cold.