The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, thin sheets of stained glass cover a large, domed ceiling, filtering in shafts of late afternoon sunlight, casting kaleidoscope patterns on the stone floor. Like, it's pretty humid in here and the air's heavy with incense, my ears feel pressurized. A name, 'KYRIOS', is etched into the stone above an ancient-looking stone font that's somehow filled with a slow-flowing, metallic liquid that seems to be... breathing. In the distance, I hear the low rumble of thunder, but the air's still and there's no sign of a storm outside.