The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Snow is gently falling onto a massive, ancient stone statue of a long-forgotten species of giant tortoise in the middle of a sprawling, open plain. Like, the air's crisp and still, with a faint scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the sky's a pale, serene blue with the sun hanging low on the horizon. Uh, iridescent birds are roosting in the tortoise's carved stone shell, their feathers reflecting the shifting colors of the sky, and somehow, the snowflakes falling onto the statue are passing straight through it as if it was made of a mesh, piling up on the ground beneath. The air's got a gentle electric charge.