The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A perfectly still lake of viscous, silver liquid stretches out before a range of ancient, weathered hills. The air is heavy with the smell of damp earth, and the sun is positioned at a perpetual dawn, casting long shadows across the hills' rough surfaces. Like, the sky above is a deep blue, but it's somehow simultaneously snowing, with delicate flakes gently falling onto the lake's surface, only to be swallowed up without leaving a single ripple. Umm, a thin layer of iridescent mist hangs suspended just above the lake, supporting a network of what looks like fossilized, crystalline spider silk.