The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A gigantic, metallic beehive fills the sky, its individual cells a deep, burnished copper. Umm, sunlight's streaming in from an angle, like, late afternoon, casting this intricate latticework of shadows on the rough-hewn stone below. The air's thick and heavy, no breeze at all, and it smells kinda...sweet, but also a bit acrid, like burnt honey. Water's somehow seeping out of the beehive itself, forming a slow-moving river that's somehow flowing uphill, disappearing into the hive's central axis.