The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, water's flowing upwards from the base of a massive, granite monument, reforming into these... tiny, identical replicas of ancient sundials that are piling up on the rough, obsidian surface of a still, dry lakebed. The air's got a dry, chalky smell, and it's super still, with this faint, electric charge making my skin prickle – the sun's high overhead, casting a pale blue glow over everything. The sundials seem to be somehow synchronizing the movement of a flock of iridescent birds flying in perfect, geometric patterns around the monument.