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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, interlocking cogs of what looks like black marble are turning in mid-air, somehow meshing together without making any noise, above a sprawling, ancient, stone-built necropolis that stretches as far as the eye can see. Umm, it's a pretty still morning, with not even a hint of wind, but the sky above is a swirling mix of iridescent colors, precisely mirroring the shifting hues of the cogs. The air smells of aged leather, and it's heavy with the scent of burned myrrh, but... it feels kinda charged with anticipation, like before a storm. Water's somehow seeping up from the ground, tracing the paths of a massive, intricate Kabbalistic Tree of Life.