The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Thousands of tiny, iridescent mushrooms sprout from the cracked, dusty floor of an abandoned, cyclopean temple, filling the air with a thick, heavy scent of myrrh and... uh, something metallic. Outside, a stationary storm rages on, its dark, turbulent clouds held at bay by a perfect, transparent dome of crystalline energy that seems to be generating a localized zone of zero air pressure. Umm, the sky above the dome is a deep, burnished copper, with the sun hovering at an impossible angle, casting an eerie, orange-red glow over the scene. The air inside the temple is eerily still.