The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, crystalline caryatids are holding up a crumbling, baroque temple that's somehow merged with a fungal growth, as if the architecture's being slowly consumed by mycelium. Umm, the air's heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying stone, and it's charged with a weird, pulsating energy that's making the hairs on my arms stand on end. Shafts of sunlight are cutting through the overgrown, crystalline latticework, illuminating iridescent beetles that are synchronously rebuilding a miniature replica of the Sephirot from the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. The sky above is a swirling vortex of deep crimson.