Frith pressed her white paw against the library window, watching her reflection shimmer. The glowing rune on her forehead pulsed with purple light. She didn't know what the mark meant or where she came from. Other cats had families and histories. She had questions. Every dimensional tear she studied brought her closer to answers. The ancient symbol had to mean something. It had to connect to the rifts between worlds. She would decode it, no matter how many anomalies she tracked through this city. The next morning, she found the Stone Arch Church tucked between rows of gray buildings. Its stone arches reached toward the sky like ancient fingers. She slipped through a crack in the wooden door and padded down the center aisle. The basement stairs creaked under her paws. The crypt below smelled of dust and old paper. Rows of leather-bound books lined the stone walls. She pulled one open with her claws. Pages covered in symbols stared back at her. Some matched the pattern on her forehead. Her heart hammered. This was it. This dark, quiet place would hold the secrets she needed. She would live here. She would read every book. She would finally learn who she was and why the rune marked her as different. On the third shelf, a small book caught her eye. Glowing runes covered its surface. Dried ink stained the edges. She dragged it down and opened it carefully. The symbols inside pulsed with the same purple light as her forehead mark. Her paws trembled as she traced each line. The book showed patterns she'd seen in dimensional tears. It showed the same rune that marked her. She couldn't read all the words yet, but she would learn. She curled up beside the book, her tail wrapped tight around her body. The church crypt would be her home. These books would teach her the truth. She would prove she belonged somewhere, even if she had to decode every symbol herself. Days passed in the dim basement light. Frith studied the Enchanted Inkspill Tome until the symbols started making sense. The runes pointed to locations scattered across the city and beyond. She needed a way to track them all. Behind a broken shelf, she found a contraption made of pipes and duct tape. When she touched it, a holographic star map flickered to life above her head. Glowing points marked spots all over Manhattan. Each one showed a place where runes like hers existed. Her green eyes widened. She had her base. She had her guide. She had the beginning of answers. The Stone Arch Church would be her starting point for every search. From here, she would travel to each marked location and decode every ancient symbol. The rune on her forehead would finally reveal where she came from.