The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A cracked, granite fountain overflows with crystal clear water in the center of what looks like a worn, earthen courtyard, umm, it's surrounded by a series of massive, moss-covered, half-buried Gnostic stelae that seem to be tracking the positions of invisible celestial bodies. Like, the air's heavy with humidity and a faint scent of blooming orchids, the sky's overcast, with a moderate midday sun somehow piercing through the cloud cover, casting no visible shadows anywhere. A nearby patch of worn flagstones keeps rearranging itself to spell out cryptic warnings in medieval Latin.