The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, gray fog is rolling off a massive, slowly-turning, stone millwheel that's somehow embedded in the side of a sheer, rocky cliff. Like, water's dripping from the wheel's edge, forming a crystal-clear pool at the base of the cliff, despite the air being super dry. The sound of the wheel's low, creaking groans is echoing off the surrounding rocks, as a bunch of wispy, cirrus clouds pass lazily overhead, giving off a faint, electric charge. Uh, the wheel's turning in mid-air, without any visible supports or axles.