The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's cascading down an imposing, crystalline stupa, somehow passing through its solid facets like they're liquid, too. The air's heavy with incense and myrrh, and there's a stillness that's almost palpable, like the atmosphere's suspended in anticipation. A flock of iridescent starlings are somehow woven into the intricate stone carvings on the stupa, their feathers reflecting the pale morning sunlight filtering through the cracks. Outside, the sky's a deep shade of indigo, as if night is slowly seeping into the landscape from the horizon.