The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a sprawling library filled with nothing but burned and charred books stretches out in every direction... the air's thick with the smell of smoke and it's really dry, like after a wildfire. Shelves upon shelves of books are packed together, their covers crackling as tiny, iridescent insects crawl across the pages, leaving behind trails of silver ink that seem to rewrite the text as they move. In the center of the room, a massive, twisted wooden ladder appears to be... growing, its branches twisting and turning as it rises up through the ceiling like a living thing.