You step into the green cube. It resists at first, with jelly-like elasticity, but after some struggle it accepts you in. Once inside, you notice that the walls of the cube have become opaque. The area you're in now, perfectly 100m3, is completely closed off from that odd dream-like space you were in before. You don't really understand it, but 14 minutes is not a lot of time. You start by trying to summon up a single large column of leatherbound books.
...it does not go as well as you hoped. You visualized the structure in your head, but when you tried to pull it into reality the result was more than a little flawed. The proportions of the book superstructure are completely off. You pull a single book from the column, expecting the entire tower to come crashing down, but nothing happens. You open the book and start to flip through the pages. They're all completely blank.
It doesn't really matter, though, you suppose. The client didn't request that the books actually have any content. Still, it seems like there's no gravity in this world yet. Or friction, for that matter. You note that your interactions with this reality are... off. When you try to hold an object in your hand, it feels incorporeal. You get the feeling you don't exist as a physical being here, but as a 'designer'. You are in complete control of this space, but physical laws don't seem to apply to you.
You snap out of your deep thought and realize you need to replicate 'regular physics to the utmost'. There's surely an easier way than constructing everything from scratch. Bringing up your tablet-menu, you select the 'prefab' option and find that it offers not only a wide assortment of buildings and structures and items, but indeed, basic preset physical laws. So you select 'reality' and load it. The column of books that until now had been levitating immediately clatter to the floor. You wish them away and they disappear.
Starting again, you imagine a column of books, but vaster in expanse than before. For a moment, your mind contemplates a labyrinthine structure of significant complexity, composed entirely of books. You struggle to hold the image in your head, but try to force it into existence nonetheless.
In a moment you're surrounded by books on all sides, stacked five times your height. You start to wander through the maze you've created. The books all look identical, save for their colors. The voice in your ear comes back.
"Huh. That's not bad. Just set a chair down in the center and we can call it a day."
...you'd comply if you knew where the center was. Your fruitless wandering wastes some time, until the voice comes back again.
"Um. Just fly, why don't you?"
Oh, yeah. This world bends to your will, so surely you'd be able to fly, right? You concentrate. Nothing happens. You try again. You hold the image of you soaring through a blue sky in your head, above the clouds and far above the ground. You start to pull it in to this reality when you realize you risk ruining everything you've created so far. Careless thought seems like it could cause some serious problems. For a moment, your head flashes to a rapidly rising pool of magma. You decide against summoning it, since, well, you're surrounded by most-likely flammable books on all sides.
Trying to fly again, this time you imagine yourself. You focus on the image of yourself floating, nothing else. You commit this thought to reality, and before you know it, you're soaring. You fly high, maybe 20, 30 meters, and find a large opening at the center of the maze. You bring yourself down to the ground, landing softly on your feet. Next, --
"5 minutes left. Get to it."
-- well, next, is a chair. Something sophisticated. You summon a smooth wingback chair, clad in red leather. You're suddenly struck by how strong this place smells - a smell of old paper and books. Like a library from your youth. You pause for a moment and gaze upon your creation -- it's simple, but it fulfills most of the criteria the client set forth.
You set about adding some extra details. You briefly consider adding a sculpture of the client, but lacking any idea of what he looks like, you decide to relent. You emboss an image of an open book on the back of the chair, and glance around once more. It occurs to you that there is no light, no light at all. How are you even seeing? You're baffled. You quickly dream up some chandeliers and attach them to the ceiling. Vast, forty meter chains hold them steady, and the light they produce -- wait, light now?. -- bathes the room in a warm orange glow.
"Time's almost up. If there's anything else you need to do, I suggest you do it now."
>...
TIME LEFT: 1 MINUTE, 12 SECONDS