The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, twisted, mechanical tendrils seem to be wrapped around the crumbling, concrete pillars of an abandoned aqueduct system. Water still flows through the aqueduct, somehow defying gravity as it trickles upward, against the slope of the structure. The air's heavy with the smell of damp concrete, and a faint hum emanates from the tendrils, synchronized with the gentle lapping of the water against the walls. It's late morning, with the binary suns casting a diffuse, warm light through the misty, humid air.