The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A hazy, golden light seeps through the stained glass dome above, illuminating the delicate, swirling patterns etched into the surface of a large, stone Omphalos... Umm, the air's heavy with the scent of old myrrh, and it's eerily still, like the whole space is holding its breath. Outside, the sound of gentle hail patters against the dome, despite the sky being a brilliant blue, with the sun hanging low in the horizon. A tendril of ivy appears to be growing directly from the Omphalos, curling around a nearby, ornate reliquary as if trying to claim it.