The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a dilapidated Buddhist temple lies half-buried in the depths of a sulfur mine, its stone walls cracked and worn from acidic runoff. Like, thick veins of yellow sulfur streak the air with noxious fumes, and the only sound is the soft patter of dripping water that somehow freezes into perfectly formed Buddhist prayer beads. Outside, a sickly green sun hangs low in the darkening sky, casting a morbid glow over everything. The air's heavy with decay and an unshakeable feeling of malevolent presence clings to everything, like a malignant humidity that seeps into every pore.