The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, towering crystalline monoliths rise out of a sea of perfectly still, silver water that's somehow not reflecting the light around it. The air's heavy with the smell of frankincense, and the sky above is a deep, burning crimson, with the sun positioned at a perpetual sunset, its rays stretching out in impossible, jagged geometric patterns. Like, a thin crescent moon is somehow lodged within the crystal latticework of the monoliths, pulsing with an eerie, colorless light. The water's surface is dotted with hundreds of old, rusting padlocks, each one locked to nothing but air.