The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's cascading upwards from a small, tranquil fountain at the center of a grand, Art Deco-style ballroom. Umm, the air's kinda heavy, like before a storm, but the pale pink light from the high, domed ceiling doesn't seem to be coming from anywhere. Outside the massive windows, frozen lightning bolts are suspended mid-air, looking like icicles, and somehow, they're reflecting the ballroom's ornate chandeliers like mirrors. It smells faintly of old perfume, and the silence is almost total, broken only by the quiet sound of water falling... upwards.