The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shimmering silver threads of frost are covering the curved, black stone surface of an ancient, partially-submerged temple's outer wall, and like, water's flowing upwards, defying gravity, against the stone in delicate, swirling patterns. Umm, the air's still, heavy with a sweet, honey-like scent and the sky above's this vibrant, turquoise color, with no sun in sight, just an even, ambient glow. Tendrils of fine, crystalline structures are bursting out of the stone surface, somehow pulling in nearby wisps of cirrus clouds like, threads on a spindle. It's dead silent here.