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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frayed tendrils of crystal-encrusted coaxial cables are wrapped around the splintered remains of an ancient, shattered tree, its trunk now a hollowed-out cylinder filled with a tangle of fog-like crystalline formations that seem to be seeping upward from the earth. The air's heavy with a sweet, ionized scent, and it's late afternoon, with the binary suns casting a pale, diffuse light across the surrounding terrain. Water's somehow flowing upward from the tree's shattered roots, defying gravity as it cools the cables, which are humming with a perpetual, low-frequency vibration. Umm, it's eerily still, like time's just stopped.