The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A blindingly bright sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across a massive, crumbling aqueduct. Uh, the air's dry and hot, with a scent of old concrete and dust. Water trickles from cracks in the aqueduct's walls, but instead of falling, it flows upwards, as if drawn to a series of ancient, intricately carved glyphs etched into the stone above. The sound of dripping water echoes through the structure, punctuated by an occasional, unsettling low-pitched whine that seems to vibrate through the air.