The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dappled sunlight's filtering through the grimy skylight of a cramped, indoor lapidary, casting weird shadows everywhere. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of polishing compound and rock dust. There's a partially-cut geode on the workbench, still rotating under a grinding wheel that's somehow still moving on its own, but like, it's been abandoned mid-project or something. The floor's covered in dust and gemstone scraps, and the windows are rattling slightly from the gentle breeze outside, but somehow the geode's interior is still filled with water, complete with tiny fish swimming around inside.