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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, velvety moss blankets the undulating hills of a surreal, crystalline golf course. Umm, iridescent golf balls hover above each hole, casting this shimmering light show across the landscape. Like... somehow, these perfectly manicured hills and sand traps are simultaneously stretching out in every direction and folding back on themselves, like origami made of reality. The air's thick with an otherworldly scent, and an ethereal music hums just above the grass, echoing the melody of whisps of aurora-like light dancing above the hills.