The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, rivulets of silver liquid are quietly flowing uphill on a dusty, abandoned ski slope, weaving in and out of clusters of what looks like... fossils of giant, crystalline flowers. The air's crisp and dry, and it smells like ozone-free air after a storm, but there's an electric charge building – you can feel it in your hair. The pale, diffuse light of an invisible sun is casting long shadows, so it's probably late afternoon, and the slope's dotted with clusters of weird, iridescent succulents that seem to be... shifting color in sync with the liquid's movement.