The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vast, crystalline library stretches out, with shelves made of a glittering, silver-blue material that's absorbing and reflecting the light of a thousand tiny, distant suns. The air's got a sweet, earthy scent and feels still, like the moment before a storm breaks. Water's pooling on the shelves, forming tiny, mirrored surfaces that seem to be drawing the light inwards, and... the books are somehow reading themselves, pages turning without any visible force. The sky above is a deep, burning crimson, like, umm, the sun's been set on fire.