When Tate’s eyes opened, everything around him hazed as if looking through an unfocused lens. After a concentrated breath, his mind sluggishly began to register his surroundings, and with it, they gradually became clearer as he walked down the long row of towering bookcases. His fingers slid across the backs of books as he strolled; he felt their textures, scented their antiquity. Everything felt… real, smelled real, but he also sensed a slight separation from this place. That although his mind could conclude that he was really here, in this library of sorts, he could also sense that this wasn’t genuine.
But he knew he’d been here before.
As he continued to rove down an endless aisle, his senses swarmed with the sweet aroma of coconut. Impulsively, he pulled in the perfume with a long in
