Dan hands the Book back to me. I put it away in my pocket.

"What do you propose we do about it?" I ask hesitantly. I fear of what may happen next, now that Dan is convinced that the Book is a danger to my existence.

"Nothing for now," Dan says. "It is late. We will let the matter rest so that you may both get a good night's sleep to recover from your difficult journey. I will, of course, take various precautions, but I think for your own safety, they are best left unsaid."

Dan puts his cloak back on, and stands up. Jonas and I stand up as well. We walk up the hidden stairway, beneath the painting, which Dan closes behind us before walking away. We then walk down the other staircase to the bedrooms. Jonas opens the door, and I walk into the room's incoherent yellow glow. Our bags are against the bookcase, and the bed on the right sits invitingly. I suddenly feel a wave of tiredness sweep over my body.

"Geez," I groan. "If I were any more tired, I'd sleep on the floor."

"I can get a sleeping bag for you if you want."

"No, thanks."

I walk over to the far side of the bed and fold the sheets back. I climb underneath the covers and pull them up over me. I close my eyes, thinking of nothing as I wait for sleep to come over me. Then I realize, with a pang of fear, that my consciousness will slip into the control of the Book, privy to whatever dream or thought that the Book wants me to think.

I sense that my consciousness has shifted, as if it was pulled out into the ether. I breathe in the oddly familiar smell of old paper and wood shavings, and open my eyes. Once again, I see the dim and endless bookshelves of the library. Why am I here again?

I search for the sound of voice, but there is no reply. Does the Book know I'm here?

I walk forward through the aisle of bookshelves, just as I did before. My footsteps, heartbeats, and slow breaths are the only sound. Just like before, the bookshelves seem to stretch on forever, their distance causing them to become engulfed in the dusty fog.

I walk up to an intersection of the parallel bookshelves with a hallway. Looking to the left, I see the lines of bookshelves converging into nothingness, and to the right, the bookshelves also continue onward forever.

I hear faint footsteps coming from in front of me. I turn my head forward, but see nothing. What are those footsteps coming from? Are they looking for me?

There's no point in trying to hide. In this monotonous stretch of books, there is no safety.

I continue walking forward through the aisle of bookshelves. I walk into another hallway, and looking left, I see the familiar wooden table and chairs. The same old reed-bound book is lying on the table, except it is lying with the pages facing up, and a chair is slid out beneath the table there. Why would the same book appear again? Is this the same nightmare? When I finish reading it, will the Endermen appear again, chasing me until I fall into the void?

There isn't any point in making a choice. I could read any book in this library, couldn't I? It won't change what's going to happen next, whatever that is. At least if I continue to read the same book, I will at least continue where I left off. It is a dull read, but its presence is familiar, reassuring me from the uncertainty of a nightmare.

I walk to the chair in front of the book, and sit in it. Then I pick up the book from the table, noticing the flint pen below it. The book is already open to the first page, so I continue to read it again, struggling with the faint Latin alphabet:

"That second part of crafting, the metaphysical, is often fatally underestimated by most researchers. I hope that this journal can help prove that what we perceive and what we think is just as important to crafting as the materials we use and the ways we arrange them.

"Crafting is often thought to be an exact science, but I believe that it is only society's conformity to set crafting standards that causes it to be so steady, linear, and frankly, unfruitful. Our false sense of certainty is creating a mental barrier between us and incredible new possibilities.

"What possibilities are we missing from crafting if, as an example, we continue to turn our heads away from the amazing abilities of the undead? We have done so for many thousands of years. How long are we going to deny that our technological limitations are being limited by our frame of mind? How many tools will we fail to discover to improve the quality of our lives? When was the last time a new set of armor was invented? Eighteen thousand years ago! When was the last time a new pickaxe was invented? Twenty-five thousand years ago!"

I try to think back on my history class when I was a kid. How long ago was it that they said the Diamond Pickaxe was invented? Thirty-something thousand years ago? That must mean that this book is around ten thousand years old, perhaps a quarter of the age of Minecraftia itself!

How is it possible that I am reading a book so old? It should have been destroyed by now, and if not, why isn't it more well-known? Then again, if this book really does exist outside of this dream, it won't be longer than a couple hundred years before the Latin alphabet is completely replaced with Standard. By then, nobody will know how to read books like these any more, and they will be forgotten. I may be one of the last people to read it.

I continue to read.

"This book does not provide a comprehensive list of new crafting recipes, nor does it attempt to predict what technology will be discovered next. Instead, this book seeks to change the frame of mind in which we understand crafting. It seeks to do this in the following ways:

"First, it briefly summarizes the most important events in the history of crafting, from its origins in the mid-Primordial Age, to its widespread adoption in the Age of Diamond, and its institutionalization early in our contemporary Age of Redstone. It explains how these events influenced and were driven by social norms, and the general pattern of controversial discoveries driving increasing public desire for conformity in crafting standards.

"Second, it describes the anomalies in the pattern. The discovery of new means of crafting outside of the crafting bench itself will be addressed, as well as the varying levels of difficulty of their adoption as their use conflicted with established social norms and ways of life. The most important crafting discoveries independent from the World Organization of Crafting will also be explained.

"Third, it addresses some of the many forms of occult magic which have attempted to bridge the gap between crafting knowledge and individual material needs. The controversy surrounding them will be explained, as well as the risks and benefits of different forms of magic.

"Fourth, it presents the first-hand journal accounts of independent crafticians involved in historically important research related to these three subjects, uncensored and unabridged. This comprises, by far, the largest portion of this book, but it is by far the least comprehensive, and it is with great difficulty and care that they have been selected."

That is where the introduction of the book ends. I turn over to the next page, and see handwriting in the Latin alphabet scrawled with flint on a blank buffer page.

"Liars, all of them! This book may seem ahead of its time, but don't let that fool you! It's cleverly disguised propaganda made by the filthy pigs at WOC, silencing opposition by reassuring those who are doubtful and exposing independent crafters to the public and tearing them down! The WOC knows nothing, but they make the people think they know everything...

"Everything the WOC says they invented was stolen... the 'independent' discoveries are the ones they weren't able to cover up.

"To whoever is reading this, don't believe what this book says. If you think the WOC knows better after you've read this, read my note at the end when you're finished."

Whoever wrote that note must hate the WOC... I don't really understand why the WOC is such a big deal. It's not like they have governing authority over anybody. What is this strange reader so concerned about? Out of curiosity, I turn to the last page of the book, finding the handwritten note on the back of the blank page separating the text from the cover.

"There are two facts that are terribly wrong in this book. First is the assumption that new technologies were highly controversial at first and that the WOC had to facilitate their adoption. Second is the assumption that most of the crafting research going on within the WOC is good, and most of the crafting research going on outside the WOC is evil. These assumptions are entirely false. If you believe these two things, all of the WOC's other arguments become indisputable facts. If you see the error in these claims, the WOC's circular argument falls apart...

"As a magician outside of that bureaucracy, I recognize that the WOC is trying to crush people like me so that it can maintain its reign of mediocrity. It is simultaneously seizing power and preventing the most extraordinary power from being achieved. It is preventing the germination of power so great that it could change Minecraftia forever. I am at the cusp of discovering power far beyond our wildest dreams, and yet the WOC waits at my doorstep..."

This magician must be crazy... I don't see how any of those claims could be pulled out of a book like this. If anything, this book seems to be advocating the exact sort of change that he wants... except for, maybe, his obsessive quest for power. Why would the WOC even care about him? If the WOC is really as powerful as he says it is, what did he do that made the WOC want to go looking for him? What sort of power is he so worried about?

I close the book, but not the questions, and then set it down on the table again. I stand up, slowly, expecting a warm body to lean against my back. Instead, I feel myself losing balance. The bookshelves around me blur, making it hard to focus. I expect the floor to fall out from underneath me, but instead my legs go numb, and then all of the world seems to turn to blackness.