The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, ravaged squid carcasses are scattered everywhere across the snow-covered rooftop of a massive, ancient stone monastery, the air thick with the stench of rotting flesh and the sound of distant chanting echoing through the still air. Like, the monastery's walls are covered in strange, cryptic murals depicting astrological events and geometric patterns, as a blood-stained, industrial-sized crucible hangs precariously over the edge, swaying gently in the wind. The sky above is a deep, foreboding indigo, and a chunk of the Moon is lodged in the monastery's central courtyard, partially submerged in a frozen pool of black, tar-like liquid.