The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a sprawling, cyberpunk-style arboretum fills the air with the sweet scent of blooming orchids, like... the humidity's really high in here. Shards of crystal somehow grow organically from the tree trunks, reflecting the soft, blue-green glow of the luminescent mushrooms that cover the forest floor. The air's really still, but a bunch of mirror-finish, chromed-out birds are moving in perfect synchrony, as if performing some sort of algorithmic dance – their mechanical hearts beating in unison with the hum of the arboretum's network of fiber-optic "roots" that apparently connect to the astral plane.