The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Waves of iridescent light are seeping from the cracks of a worn, basalt staircase that spirals deep into a damp, hollowed-out volcanic cone. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of wet earth and decaying leaves, and I hear this constant, low-pitched hum like... the reverberation of a giant, invisible bell. Water trickles down the rough-hewn stone walls, pooling around the roots of ancient, dead trees, their petrified trunks now somehow infused with glittering veins of rose quartz. The sunlight filtering down from above casts an eerie, shifting glow, like the staircase is slowly revolving on its own axis.