The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water seeps out from a series of cracked, granite monuments, forming an intricate, symmetrical pattern on the dry, cracked earth. Like, the air's dry, too - it's sucking moisture from my skin - but it's charged with electricity, making my hair stand on end. Above, a fixed, crescent-shaped sun casts an eerie, silver glow over everything, illuminating the symbols etched into the granite - derived from the medieval grimoire, the Heptameron. Uh, the smell of burning sage fills the air as the monuments... slowly, steadily begin to shift positions, rearranging the pattern on the ground.