The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, delicate silver threads crisscross the air in this... abandoned apiary, like they're some sort of crystalline web. A weird hum, almost like a bass note, is vibrating the empty honeycombs, and a thick scent of decay and old honey hangs heavy over everything. The air is heavy with the weight of stillness, and outside, the sky's a deep shade of indigo, with stars flickering like diamonds scattered across the fabric of reality. A chunk of the moon appears to be lodged in the corner of the apiary, partially buried in debris and old beekeeping equipment.