The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's pouring out of this massive, ancient baptismal font, but instead of flowing down, it's just sorta sticking to the sides like it's glued or something. The air's got this heavy, still quality to it, and there's a weird electric charge that's making the hairs on my arms stand up – smells like frankincense and myrrh. Above, the pale pink sky is visible through the partially destroyed dome of this... uh, Byzantine-style church, and I can hear this low hum in the distance, kinda like the sound of a thousand whispers quietly chanting "DXRG" in unison, echoing off the Hagia Sophia-style architecture.