The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of crystalline dust cling to the stone carvings of a vast, subterranean Khmer temple, casting an iridescent glow across the still, humid air. The air's thick with the smell of damp earth and mold, and there's this low, vibrating hum... like it's coming from the walls themselves. Uh, ghostly quetzals are nesting in the carvings, their ethereal calls echoing through the temple as the carvings themselves seem to be shifting, reforming into new patterns that reflect some sort of esoteric Khmer cosmology. The sun's somehow shining through the stone ceiling.