LEVEL CLASSIFICATION: THRESHOLD-77
Designation: The Endless Library
Stability: Apparent (Constantly Shifting)
Cognitive Hazard: MAXIMUM (Information Overload)
Physical Hazard: LOW (But The Mind Is The Target)
PRIMARY TESTIMONY
Extracted from: Report No. 0404-BK
Date: [PAGE 999 / UNKNOWN CHAPTER]
Status: INSANE / OBSESSED
I woke up smelling the strongest and most unmistakable scent in the world: old paper, ink, leather, and the dust of centuries.
I opened my eyes and saw no sky. I saw no ground. I only saw corridors stretching endlessly upwards and downwards. Dark wooden shelves, immense, reaching as high as the eye could see, filled with books of every size, color, and shape. Some were small like stamps, others were gigantic like coffins.
— Where...? — I whispered.
My voice echoed, but it didn't fade away. It seemed to be absorbed by the pages, as if the air itself was made of unwritten words.
I was in the middle of a library. But it wasn't an ordinary library. It was alive.
I could hear it. A low, constant sound, like the flapping of a thousand butterfly wings. It was the sound of pages turning on their own. The sound of knowledge moving.
I walked a few steps. My feet touched red carpets worn out by time. I looked at the shelves. There were titles in languages I knew, but also in symbols that hurt the eyes, in scriptures that seemed to move if I blinked.
I reached out and grabbed a book at random. The cover was blue velvet. I opened it.
The pages were blank.
— Strange... — I murmured.
But then, words began to appear in front of me, floating above the paper, as if they were being written right then by my own will.
"You are here because you were looking for answers. Everyone who arrives here is looking for something. The library has everything. Everything that has ever been written, everything that will be written, and everything that no one ever had the courage to write."
I stepped back, startled. Was the book talking to me?
— Everything, really? — I asked the empty air.
— EVERYTHING — answered a voice. It didn't come from just one place. It came from all the books at once, whispering in unison.
TECHNICAL NOTE 77: THE PHYSICS OF THE WORD
In this level, information is not just content; it is a force of nature. Knowing something physically changes you. Observed data:
- Oblique Reading: You don't need to flip pages. If you touch the cover, the content is transferred directly to your mind. It is fast, efficient... and painful.
- The Truth Effect: If you read a book explaining how gravity works, you become lighter. If you read about hatred, your body heats up. If you read about death... a part of you actually dies. Knowledge alters your internal reality.
- The Forbidden Sections: The library is divided into wings. The first ones are safe: History, Science, Art. But deeper down, there are sections with titles like "The True Name of Things", "How to Undo Creation", "Thoughts That Burn the Mind". Reading these pages means absorbing concepts the human mind was not made to hold.
- The Labyrinth: The shelves move on their own. If you stay still for too long, or if you read something you shouldn't, the way back disappears. You are lost forever among the stories.
A student who disappeared here left only a note written inside a book cover:
"I came seeking wisdom to solve my problems. Now I know so much that my problems seem laughable, but I also know things that made me lose the will to live. Knowing too much is as dangerous as knowing too little. Ignorance is a shield we break without meaning to."
PRIMARY ENTITY: THE LIBRARIAN
Description: A tall and skeletal figure, dressed in a flawless black suit and thin-rimmed glasses that reflect light, never allowing his eyes to be seen. He has no expression. He walks upon nothingness, floating a few inches above the ground, pushing a wooden cart full of new books that still steam with fresh ink.
Behavior: He does not attack. He merely observes and organizes. He sees you as a reader, or as a future book. He speaks politely, calmly, educately... but there is a cold desperation behind his words.
Ability: Reality Editing. He can tear information out of your head like one rips out a page. He can write new facts about you. If he decides that "you were never here," you cease to exist in that location. He is the guardian of the infinite catalog.
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONTINUATION)
I started walking, fascinated.
I picked up a book about time travel. I read the first page and suddenly felt as if I had lived 500 years in a second.
I grabbed a biology book and instantly understood the structure of every atom in my body.
It was addictive. It was the most powerful drug in the universe. I wanted more. I wanted to know everything.
— This is incredible... — I laughed, my eyes shining. — I can know everything! I can be God!
— Careful, traveler — said a calm voice behind me. — Excessive reading causes blindness. Not of the eyes... of the soul.
I turned around quickly. There he was. The Librarian.
He adjusted his glasses and offered a smile that never reached his eyes.
— Who are you? — I asked, holding the book tight against my chest.
— I am the one who guards. I am the one who remembers when the world forgets. And you are reading too fast. The mind has a storage limit. If you fill it too quickly, it corrupts.
— I want more! — I declared, defiant. — Show me the big books! The ones no one reads! The secrets!
He sighed, a long and sad sound.
— Curiosity killed the cat, but here it kills much more. Very well. If it is the truth you want... follow me.
He led me through corridors that grew darker and darker. The light dimmed, replaced by a pale glow coming from the books themselves. The air became heavier, denser, as if we were submerged in black ink.
We arrived at a huge room, at the very center of everything.
In the middle of the room stood a single golden pulpit.
And on it, a book.
It had no cover. No title.
The pages were made of a material that looked like human skin, and the text glowed in blood-red.
— This — said the Librarian, lowering his voice to a whisper — is the Main Book. Everything is written here. What was, what is, and what will be. Even your story is here.
My eyes lit up.
— Can I read my future?
— You can read everything. But remember: once you read the last page, you have no more reason to turn the next one. The story ends.
— I'm willing to risk it!
I reached out and touched the page.
ANOMALOUS ARTIFACT: THE WARNING ON THE DOOR
Engraved in silver letters at the entrance of the forbidden section:
OPEN THIS BOOK WITH CARE.
IT IS NOT YOU WHO READS THE WORDS.
IT IS THE WORDS WHO READ YOU.
KNOWING TOO MUCH IS NOT GOOD.
UNDERSTANDING EVERYTHING MAKES YOU STOP FEELING.
AND IF YOU FIND THE BLANK PAGE...
RUN.
FOR IT IS YOURS.
PHILOSOPHICAL FRAGMENT
"Ignorance is a disguised blessing. It allows us to dream, allows us to make mistakes, allows us to have hope. Absolute knowledge is a cold and heavy burden. When you know the why of everything, when you understand every mechanism, every consequence, life loses its magic and becomes just a cold technical manual. Many seek the truth, but few can endure the climate where it lives."
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONTINUATION)
The words entered my head like a flood.
They weren't just letters. They were images, sounds, feelings, pure and raw truths.
I saw the birth of galaxies.
I saw the fall of civilizations.
I saw what happens after death.
I saw the faces of things that dwell in the void.
I saw... I saw how everything works.
All the pieces of the puzzle fit together at once.
My mind screamed, trying to process such a massive amount of information. It was like trying to fill a glass with water from a firehose.
— Stop... stop... — I murmured, holding my head in my hands.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
But it was fascinating.
— Do you understand now? — asked the Librarian, with pity. — Now you know. You know that everything you do was already written. You know that all your pains are small. You know that all your joys are fleeting. You know everything.
I looked at him. My eyes were no longer human. They reflected pages and more pages spinning endlessly.
— Yes... I know... — my voice came out hoarse, distant. — I know that everything is... just text. We are only words. Stories being read by someone we don't know.
— Exactly. So now... you can rest. You have no more questions left. You can become a shelf too. Join the collection.
He raised his hand to touch me, to turn me into part of the library, to store me on the eternal shelf.
But then, I turned the last page of the book.
The page was blank.
— What? — I whispered.
The Librarian froze. He went pale (as pale as a shadow can be).
— Impossible... This page is never blank...
— It is — I said, feeling a strange strength returning to my body. A strength that came not from knowledge, but from doubt. — If it is blank... it means it hasn't been written yet. It means I can still write it.
— NO! THE STORY IS ALREADY OVER! — he shouted, losing his composure. — YOU KNOW EVERYTHING NOW!
— I know everything that WAS! — I shouted back, slamming the book shut. — BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT COMES NEXT! AND THAT IS ENOUGH TO CONTINUE!
PRIMARY TESTIMONY (CONCLUSION)
I threw the book into the air.
It didn't fall. It exploded into thousands of loose words that floated in the air like confetti.
— FORBIDDEN! SYSTEM ERROR! — screamed the Librarian, covering his ears. — YOU CANNOT IGNORE WHAT YOU KNOW!
— I AM NOT IGNORING IT! I AM SURPASSING IT!
I ran.
I ran through the shelves that tried to close to trap me.
I ran while knowing too much, while feeling too much, while hurting too much.
But I ran.
I saw a light at the end of the corridor.
It wasn't the light of a lamp. It was the light of the real world, raw, simple, stupid and wonderful.
I threw myself through it.
THE RETURN
I woke up on the floor, in my room.
The book I was reading before sleeping lay open beside me.
I sat up, panting.
My head ached. Millions of pieces of information still buzzed inside, like background noise.
I still know too much. I still understand the universe in a way no one else does.
But I chose... to forget a little.
I chose to pretend I don't know.
Because mystery is what keeps us alive.
Now I look at people and see them like open books. I know their fears, their pasts, their almost certain endings.
But I say nothing.
I just smile and turn the page.
After all, the best book is always the next one.
CATALOGERS' FOOTNOTE
This level is one of the most dangerous because it doesn't kill the body; it "completes" the mind. The Entity is the personification of order and absolute knowledge, but even it has rules.
It was confused when it found the blank page. This proves that not even infinite knowledge can predict or control free will.
There is always room for a new story.
ADDENDUM
The book closes.
A new one opens.
The reading continues.