The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shards of stained glass cover a cramped, ornate reliquary like it's been blasted apart from the inside. Umm, the air's thick with incense and myrrh, but there's a weird... stillness, no air movement at all. I see a glowing, Enochian sigil etched into the far wall, pulsating in sync with the flashes of iridescent light dancing through a thousand tiny, lead-framed panels. And somehow, a single, burning frankincense stick is just... hanging there, upright, without any visible support, the flame perfectly still despite the surrounding wreckage.