The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rainwater pours from a cracked, ancient terra cotta pipe into a dry fountain basin in what looks like an abandoned Italian villa courtyard, somehow slowly reassembling into perfect, whole terra cotta pots. Umm, the late morning sunlight reflects off the warm, worn stone, and the still air carries a hint of jasmine and decaying leaves. A small patch of intact fresco depicting Hermes Trismegistus adorns the weathered wall nearby. The shadows cast by the nearby cypress trees aren't quite aligning with their actual positions.