The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, granite pillars are supporting the weight of a sprawling, labyrinthine cathedral, half-buried in a vast, snowy expanse. Uh, the air's heavy with the scent of incense and something... metallic, as the sky's a pale shade of indigo, with stars flickering through the vaulted ceiling like it's not even there. The stone beneath is covered in intricate, swirling patterns of frost that seem to be rearranging themselves in sync with a low, pulsating hum emanating from the pillars, and somehow, water's slowly seeping upwards from the stone, refilling a series of delicate, filigree-lined fonts.