The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rainbow-colored mist is pouring out of a perfectly round hole in the ice, like... it's being pumped from beneath the glacier's surface. The air's crisp and still, with a heavy scent of frozen earth hanging over the desolate, Arctic tundra landscape. Umm, a colossal, ancient, rusting ship's propeller sticks out of the ice at a 45-degree angle, slowly spinning in sync with the low, pulsating rumble that's vibrating the ground beneath my feet. The pale blue sky above is almost blindingly bright, with the sun at high noon casting no shadows anywhere.