The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a massive, rusting hulk of an ancient Mesopotamian ziggurat looms before a dark, turbulent sea. Blood-stained seaweed clings to the ziggurat's corroding metal beams as if it's being slowly pulled into the structure itself. Seagulls scream, somehow vocalizing fragments of the Epic of Gilgamesh as they struggle to free themselves from the mangled, iron latticework. The air reeks of rot and brine, with an undercurrent of incense and ozone, while a sickly yellow moon rises low in the stormy sky, casting a jaundiced glow over the whole scene.