The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A narrow, winding stairway descends into a damp, limestone cavern, the air's heavy with the scent of damp earth and mold, and it's weirdly humid. Shards of mirror glass cover the ground, reflecting the flickering light of what looks like an aurora borealis hanging low in the cavern's ceiling... somehow, it's actually moving, like the lights are dancing in sync with the steady dripping of mineral-rich water somewhere off in the distance. A collection of precisely arranged, ornate seashells seems to be spontaneously forming into neat, concentric patterns on the ground, each shell reflecting the color of the aurora's current pulse.