The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's reflecting off this... lake of oil that covers the surface of a massive, inactive caldera. The air's heavy with the scent of gasoline, and the sky above is a pale, washed-out blue, like it's mid-morning. Tendrils of what looks like solidified smoke are weaving themselves into the surrounding rocks, and I can hear this low, rumbling hum, almost a growl, that's causing the oil to quiver in sync with a network of... impossible, right-angle turns etched into the caldera's walls, which somehow appear to be functioning as a functional, three-dimensional model of a M.C. Escher drawing.