Mark Lansing had always considered himself as more of a gatekeeper than a mere librarian. Every book had its own world within it, and he was the guardian of a thousand worlds, protector of the unspoken words and unwritten tales. The hallowed halls of the Manhattan Public Library were his fortress, the rows of bookshelves his labyrinth, and the rustling pages the whispers of his allies.

On this unusually cold evening, as Mark was cataloging some newly acquired ancient texts, a particular book caught his attention. It was placed carelessly in the wrong section. Its leather cover was weathered with age, and its pages emitted a musty yet captivating smell, a perfume only found in well-aged books. The title, 'Omniscriptum,' was embossed in a gold that had dulled over the centuries. Mark's curiosity was piqued; he had not seen this book before.

Carrying it to his desk, under the warm and steady light of his table lamp, he opened the book. The pages were filled with a language he did not recognize. Symbols, drawings, and glyphs danced before his eyes. As a seasoned scholar of ancient languages, Mark found this script to be unlike any he had seen before, a fusion of the ancient and the alien.

His fascination took over, and he began to utter the first line out loud, treating it like a piece of poetry, "Omnium Rerum Principia Parva Sunt". The room grew colder, the lights flickered, and a gust of wind blew through the silent library. Then, as if on cue, the world around him blurred. His desk, his beloved books, the high arching ceilings of the library, all started fading into an abyss of swirling colors and shadows. A sensation of vertigo overtook him, and the last thing he saw before everything went black was the ancient, cryptic text of the Omniscriptum, glowing eerily on the page.

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Mark awoke to the song of an unknown bird. His head throbbed, and his eyes took a while to adjust to the bright, alien sunlight. He was lying on a grassy field dotted with flowers he had never seen before. In the distance, he could see towering, snow-capped mountains cradling a magnificent city filled with buildings fashioned out of what appeared to be crystalline material. Above him, two suns shone brilliantly in a sky that was a deeper blue than any he'd ever seen on Earth.

He sat up, his mind reeling. The last thing he remembered was reading from the Omniscriptum. Could he be...? No, it was impossible. Such things didn't happen outside of the books he loved so dearly.

Suddenly, he noticed a group of beings approaching him. They resembled humans but were taller, with pointed ears, iridescent eyes, and an ethereal glow around them. Their clothes were woven from shimmering threads, changing colors as they moved. Their leader, a woman of regal bearing, spoke to him in a language that sounded musical yet familiar.

“Welcome, Traveler, to Luxarcadia,” she said. "You are the chosen Librarian, aren't you?"

Mark blinked in surprise, the woman's words echoing in his head. The enormity of what was happening started sinking in. His life had suddenly turned into an isekai novel. He was no longer Mark Lansing, the librarian from Manhattan. He was now the Librarian of Lost Realms, and his journey in Luxarcadia was just beginning.