Felox stepped onto the warm tan brick road and looked up at the library. The cobalt gargoyle stood tall on two legs, wings folded. Patrons trusted this place, and Felox meant to keep that trust. No one would leave worse than they came in. A jeweled archway glowed near the entrance. It was the marker for known patrons. When a regular passed through, the runes warmed and hummed. Strangers got only a soft chime and a careful welcome. Felox unbuckled a thick leather book. Inside, each trusted name sat in neat ink. A small hooded figure shuffled up the brick path. The archway flickered, unsure. The figure pulled back their hood, eyes wet, hands shaking. Felox checked the ledger. The name was there, written months ago. A regular. The gargoyle nodded and waved them inside, past the cypress trees and through the doors. In a back room behind a glowing force field door, Felox locked the ledger away. The safe room hummed with clean light. The patron sat in a quiet chair, finally breathing easy. No stranger today. No one turned away by mistake. Felox closed the book and felt the weight of it. The system worked. But outside, the archway flickered again, alone, with no one near it.