The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The sun is setting over a barren, salt-crusted lake bed, umm, reflecting a deep orange-red glow across the cracked, dry earth. Water's somehow seeping upward from the ground, pooling into geometric shapes that seem to be echoing the forms of sacred Khmer architecture, while a series of iridescent, crystalline spires are pushing up from the lake floor like twisted, translucent stalactites. The air's heavy with the scent of damp clay and an electric charge is building in the stillness, like... it's going to storm or something. Copper-plated beetles are scurrying across the salt, leaving trails of glittering, crystalline dust in their wake.