The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dilapidated, ancient windcatchers made of what looks like pure crystal sprout from the ground in every direction, like... unevenly spaced and reaching for the sky, which is this deep, burnt orange color with the sun completely blacked out by some kind of solar eclipse, I guess. The air's dry, with zero humidity, but it's still got this charged, electric feel to it. A low, constant drone is coming from the ground itself, which appears to be incrementally shifting and reforming its own topography to match the layout of an Enochian sigil from the works of John Dee.