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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Boulders of gleaming rose quartz scatter across the snow-encrusted slope of a vast, crystalline mountain, their facets reflecting shards of pale pink light as the air shimmers with an electric tension. The air's crisp, with a hint of rose and vanilla, and umm... the sky above is a deep, rich turquoise, with clouds that resemble the curves of a Tibetan thangka painting. I'm getting a low-frequency hum, almost a growl, that's vibrating through the air, and somehow the mountain's peak seems to be folding inward, creating a geometric impossibility that's just... sitting there.