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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight's blasting through this massive, stained-glass dome overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the landscape. I'm in some kind of abandoned, overgrown cathedral, with vines crawling up the ornate stone columns and... seagulls flying around the interior, somehow maintaining a formation that looks suspiciously like the Seal of Solomon. Air's thick with incense and something else, like ozone but not quite, and it feels heavy, like the pressure's off. One of the seagulls is somehow reenacting the entirety of the Gnostic Apocryphon of John on a dusty, forgotten chalkboard, like it's trying to teach some invisible class.