The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, rusted cogs are bursting out of a murky, polluted swamp, like, umm, emitting a low hum that's making my skin prickle. The air's thick with the smell of rotting vegetation and something sweetly chemical, and the humidity's so high that water's condensing on every surface, creating a perpetual, misty veil that rises from the swamp floor. The cogs seem to be synchronized with the erratic, glowing pulses of iridescent fungi that cling to the twisted, metallic latticework, and, somehow, water's flowing uphill into a nearby, ancient, cyclopean structure, defying gravity.