The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Morning sunlight filters through a stained glass ceiling, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on a series of ancient, dusty wine barrels in a massive, abandoned underground wine cellar. The air's musty and heavy with the scent of aged wine and mold, and like, a low-frequency hum is somehow coming from the wine barrels themselves. Uh, a small, intricately carved stone statue of a Mesoamerican deity on top of one barrel seems to be rotating, really slowly, while the cellar's entire floor is covered in an evenly spaced pattern of cryptic, geometric sigils. The wine barrels are somehow refilling themselves.