Shapes. Colors. Sounds. Smells. What were once distant letters have merged inside of me to form words, phrases, tangible pieces of consciousness. It is as if Iris' memories are being reformed inside of me, as if I am experiencing them first-hand.

But now, at the very least, I can understand what is happening, why these sensations are appearing before me. I can finally distinguish Iris' memories from my own.

I strain my arm to reach for the last piece of paper stuck to my face. I feel my grip snag. A faint force tugs my cheeks. I pull hard and the mess of letters and sensations fade away, replaced with a burning pain across my face.

I open my eyes and see... nothing. Just darkness. I focus my ears and hear... nothing. It's a darkness I've only encountered rarely, in those moments before my tired mind goes to sleep. Does that mean I'm dreaming?

"I'm afraid not..." I hear a familiar, deep voice reply softly in front of me.

A faint grey form appears in front of me, a light in this darkness as uncertain as a shadow in dim light. As I observe it, it becomes taller, more humanoid. I begin to notice slim, bony legs and long, slender fingers. Before my eyes rest directly upon the being's head, I compulsively turn away.

That hunched neck and slim, protruded jaw could only belong to an Enderman, but where its glowing eyes ought to be, there are only black, empty holes.

"There is no need to avert your gaze," the creature speaks in its slow, deep, metallic voice. "The fire in my eyes burnt out long ago."

I raise my gaze to the two black holes that ought to be eyes and, true to the creature's word, the creature remains still.

"If your eyes aren't glowing, then you must be dead. Does that mean I'm dead?" I ask.

"Not quite. Your body is elsewhere, but your mind is here, with me."

"How can I still be alive if I don't have my body anymore?"

"As someone who has been trapped here for millenia, I can assure you that this place is no afterlife. It is possible, although difficult, to interact with the outside world. I would myself... but I am so very tired..."

After letting out the last three words with an exasperated sigh, the grey form fades into the darkness.

"Please, come back!" I cry out. "If you know how to communicate with the outside world, then please, show me how!"

I pull at the pages clinging to my arms, binding my legs, glued against my back, until scraps of paper litter the black floor and my body throbs all over with fiery pain. Finally, I'm rid of those ticks!

I run forward into the darkness. If I'm not in my body anymore, then that means Iris took it from me. Iris could be attacking Jonas right now, and unless I find some way to interact with the outside world, there's nothing I can do about it!

Suddenly, I hear a click, as if I have suddenly awoken from a deep sleep. Dim light surrounds me, and I find myself standing in the aisle of a familiar library.

The bookshelves are as tall and impossibly long as I remember. I still remember the smell of old paper and wood shavings. However, now there are other smells: old wood, mold, and dry rot.

I sprint into the joining bookshelf aisle and glance left and right. To my right, I see the lightless Enderman walking slowly. I run up to it and grab its shoulder.

"Please, I beg of you!" I cry out. "Show me how to communicate with the outside world! My friend is in danger of being killed!"

"Son of Herobrine, have mercy..." the Enderman whispers. "After saving your life, my energy has been greatly drained. When I last checked, your body's hands were tied behind your back, your body unconscious from Ender fire and blood trauma. Please, I beg of you, let me rest and recover. There is still time to save your friend."

The creature sighs with the sound of an inflating balloon, except the rush of air is stuttered from the heaving of its trembling body. I lift my hand from its shoulder in sympathy.

"If you wish to make yourself useful," it whispers, "find one of the bookshelves that has collapsed, and repair the tattered and jumbled pages as you have done before. Perhaps it may help Iris see reason."

"I understand," I reply.

I turn around and run through the endless aisle, scanning the bookshelves for damage. After a minute of running, I see a mound of papers and crushed book bindings, partially buried in decaying wood. I walk closer, and notice the corners of some of the pages begin to lift up, as if gravitating towards me.

I clench my eyes shut and plant my legs firmly. I hear the sound of the first piece of paper flex as it tumbles through the air.

I don't know if I will ever get my body back, and after these pages consume me again, I don't even know if I will get my memories back. Perhaps it is futile to struggle against a being who can control minds, but I refuse to stand around idly. I owe it to Jonas... and to myself.