The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Glassy, crystalline stalactites hang from the ceiling of an enormous underground cavern, reflecting a warm, golden light from... umm, I don't know where, it's just kinda everywhere. The air's thick with the smell of myrrh and has this weird, static charge that's making my hair stand on end, but the atmosphere's pretty chill, like a quiet library or something. The walls are covered in intricate, swirling patterns that seem to reference the qliphoth from medieval Jewish mysticism, and a series of slow-moving, liquid-metallic tendrils are weaving through them, like they're alive or something.