The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, translucent wasps are swarming a decrepit, Baroque-style church made entirely of dark, iridescent glass, their wings beating at an intense, ear-piercing pitch that's somehow not uncomfortable to listen to. Umm, the air's really humid and heavy with the scent of overripe fruit, and the pale yellow sun is positioned at a weird, off-center angle in the sky, casting an uneven glow over everything. The church's entrance is somehow simultaneously opening and closing, with tendrils of liquid glass perpetually flowing out of the doorway like a frozen, glittering waterfall. The surrounding air feels charged with electricity.