The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight pours through a massive, stained-glass rose window, casting multicolored patterns on the intricately carved stone walls of a Gothic monastery. Like, a thick layer of iridescent, crystalline frost coats every surface, refracting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors, and the air is heavy with the scent of frankincense and myrrh. Water trickles from a delicate, filigree fountain, somehow suspended upside-down from the vaulted ceiling, and it feels super still in here, like time just froze. The faint hum of chanting seems to be emanating from the frost itself.