The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, turquoise-tinted sunlight's casting an eerie glow over this sprawling, abandoned apiary – hundreds of weathered beehives are stacked haphazardly, some half-buried in the fine, iridescent sand that covers everything. A faint hum of activity still resonates through the air, like the apiary's not quite dead yet, and the scent of honey and dried lavender hangs heavy, sweetening the acrid tang of the nearby quicksilver springs. Meanwhile, a couple of the beehives are...shifting, somehow merging with each other like they're alive, their wooden slats blending seamlessly as the air shimmers around them.