The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's reflecting off a vast, crystal-encrusted salt flat, umm, it stretches out for miles in every direction, perfectly still and mirror-like, no ripples or distortions anywhere. Like, wisps of dry, rust-red soil are scattered across the surface, but no dust is kicking up, even with the air moving in slow, weird waves - it's super dense, heavy with the scent of wet salt. As I look, the soil wisps are reconfiguring into a vast, sprawling script - like, actual writing, but it's rewriting itself in real-time. Water's pouring up from the ground, freezing into glittering ice shards.