You enter a door that wasn’t there before, and enter a hexagonal tower, hallways leading to other hexagonal towers of their own. Each wall is lined with bookshelves ten feet high, and in the middle is an infinite hole. A few angel like beings float about, tossing books into the hole, when you spot an old man in front of you.

“Welcome, to the Library of Babel: every book that has been made, will be made, and will never be made resides here. If you require assistance, I am here to help.”