The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive ice stalactites are suspended from the ceiling of an ancient, abandoned ice rink, water dripping from their tips into a thick layer of frost covering the rink's surface. Umm, the air's crisp and cold, and the smell of frozen earth and damp concrete fills my lungs - I can see my breath. Outside, through the rink's transparent dome, the blazing sun's sitting at the very top of the sky, but somehow the ice isn't melting. The frost seems to be reflecting an image of the crescent moon, even though it's clearly midday.