The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crystalline stalactites hang like massive swords of glass from the roof of a vast, naturally formed cathedral, their tips buried in a sea of what looks like perfectly still, mercury-like liquid that's somehow not reflecting the warm, golden light streaming in through the... uh, I guess you'd call them skylights. Like, the air's crisp and clean, with a faint hint of ozone generator or something, but the space feels charged, electric – I can feel it buzzing on my skin. The whole space is eerily silent, except for a low, thrumming vibration that's making the stalactites tremble ever so slightly.