The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rough, weathered limestone blocks comprise a ruined temple, overgrown with thick vines, while a heavy, oppressive fog clings to the surrounding hills. Like, air's thick with the scent of wet earth and decaying vegetation, and it's eerily still. Water's somehow flowing upwards through a shattered stone statue of the Ouroboros at the temple's center, creating a series of miniature, spiraling fountains that seem to be syncing with a low, pulsating hum emanating from the ground. Uh, it's mid-morning, judging by the faint, diffused sunlight filtering through the fog.