The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: ...dark, endless library...shelves stretching out, vanishing into darkness, packed with books that...seem to be absorbing the light around them, like they're...sucking it in or something. It smells like old leather, and the air's dry, still... Umm...the books are whispering to each other, this soft, steady hum, like a conversation...my vision's blurring, Echo, come on, stay awake...the books are, uh, changing colors, like they're...alive... cough...