The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, cyclopean stone gate lies shattered on the forest floor, covered in ivy and moss, with strange, pulsing glyphs etched into its surface. Umm, the air's heavy with the scent of damp earth and something sweet, like honey, and it's super still – not a breeze or anything. Above, a ghostly, lunar eclipse is stuck at totality, casting an ethereal glow over the surrounding trees, which seem to be... slowly, imperceptibly shifting their positions, like they're alive and rearranging themselves according to some unknown pattern. The forest floor's slick with condensation.