The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, rust-colored stalactites hang from the cave ceiling like they're pulling the air down with them. Uh, the air's dry and tastes metallic as the scent of burnt coal hangs low over a slow-moving, iridescent river, its surface reflecting an eerie, pulsing glow that seems to emanate from the walls themselves. The cave seems to be generating its own gravity field; I see rocks falling upwards, somehow accumulating into a makeshift, gravity-defying pillar near the river's center, where an etched diagram of the I Ching appears to be pulling the light around it into strange, angular patterns.