Page Island, an island that existed beyond imagination.
The entire island was made of "books"-not metaphorically, but literally. The ground was made of compacted, yellowed pages, slightly springy underfoot and rustling with every step. The hills were stacked tomes, the rocks rolled-up parchment scrolls, the trees enormous bound volumes, and the leaves drifting single pages. The air smelled of aged paper and ink, mingled with a faint, fresh scent of mold. Light filtered through gaps in the overlapping "book leaves," casting dappled light and shadows across the paper ground.
Robin stood at the island's edge, her long black hair stirring gently in the paper-scented breeze. She wore her signature dark long dress and high-heeled sandals, with a small bag over her shoulder containing a notebook and a few small tools. She surveyed her surroundings, her deep blue eyes gleaming with a scholar's distinctive curiosity and focus.
"An island made of books... How incredible." She murmured to herself, her voice echoing faintly through the paper space. "The contents of these books..." She crouched and brushed her slender fingers over the ground-that "ground" was actually a page of an enormous open book. The writing on it was ancient and blurred, but Robin could make out fragments. "...Observational records of ancient climates. And this one is... Shipbuilding craftsmanship?"
She rose and looked deeper into the island. There, a "maze" built from countless stacked books formed a complex tangle of winding passages. In some places, bookshelves rose like towers; in others, pages formed spiraling staircases. The whole island resembled a gigantic three-dimensional library-or rather, a maze constructed from knowledge.
"If I fight here..." Robin considered. "I'll have to be especially careful. These books may be precious historical records. Fortunately, though, my ability..."
She elegantly crossed her hands before her chest.
"...Is well suited to