The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crystalline shards reflect light from a setting sun, piercing through the still, heavy air in an abandoned Antarctic research station. Umm, I can smell the acrid scent of burning electronics and... the air's charged with static, making my hair stand on end, despite the wet snow covering every surface. A massive, crimson-painted ouroboros emblem somehow seems embedded in the ice, and above, the aurora borealis appears as a blazing replica of the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, its ethereal lights pulsing through the darkening sky. Water drips slowly from icicles, shattering the silence.