The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, crystalline formations jut out of the seafloor, reflecting shards of sunlight that somehow pierce the darkness of the ocean depths. Umm, water's near-freezing, with a weird, syrupy quality that makes every movement feel slow. The air – well, not air, water pressure's extreme – is heavy with the smell of salt and something sweet, like caramel, as a massive, rusted-out cargo ship, half-buried in the seafloor, appears to be... slowly unraveling, its steel threads unwinding like yarn, drifting upwards into the darkness. The sound's near-deafening, a creaking, groaning, shrieking mess.