The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Vines wrap around an old, stone fountain in the center of a courtyard, surrounded by weathered, grey buildings that seem to lean inward, like they're sharing a secret. The air's heavy with the smell of damp earth, and the sky above is a deep, foreboding grey, but the sun's still managing to shine through, casting an otherworldly glow. Water flows upwards from the fountain, forming a series of small, crystalline arches that somehow don't collapse under their own weight. Umm, the sound of whispering seems to be coming from the stone itself, echoing off the buildings in a way that's almost... rhythmic.