The raucous environment surrounding The Library continued on and on. Many passed, often in a rush, just to avoid whatever calamity hit the populous inside. There's really no reason for them to bother acknowledging whatever anyone inside said; how could they take it seriously when they were surrounded on both sides by madness? What does the truth matter when so many untruths surround it, setting up a smoke screen, limiting sight of both eyes, mind, and heart?
It wasn't the fault of the Librarian; they did their best to spread what knowledge and truths they could find and discover (oftentimes with assistance from those willing enough to ask the questions). The smoke screen prevailed time and again, the legion of chaos within The Library spread without.
The Librarian held onto hope, onto the truth that, much to their dismay, only they felt they could see.
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