The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive crystalline pillars are holding up the cracked, concrete ceiling of a vast, abandoned parking garage. Umm, wispy tendrils of fog are snaking up the pillars, like, carrying this metallic scent of copper, as the air's charged with an electric hum. Iridescent liquid is somehow solidifying into these feathery, crystalline growths that are piercing the air, reflecting the pale, mid-afternoon sun filtering through the shattered concrete above. Gravity's warped around a lone pillar, where shattered glass shards and broken metal debris are suspended mid-air, motionless.