The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain-soaked air clings to my skin as water cascades down the crystal facets of an impossible, naturally occurring merkaba, slicing through solid stone like air, somehow. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of wet sagebrush, and the sky above is a pale shade of slate grey. Shattered, geometric fragments of sunlight seem to be reflected in mid-air, surrounding the merkaba with an almost palpable latticework of light, while nearby, the leaves of a small patch of wormwood appear to be somehow transcribing an exact replica of the Book of Soyga onto the wet earth.