The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, massive, crystalline stalactites hang from the ceiling of a gigantic, hollow geode, reflecting a warm, golden light from the setting sun outside. The air's dry, like... I can feel the moisture being pulled from my skin, but there's this faint scent of vanilla and smoke, like something's smoldering in the distance. The stillness is almost absolute, except for this low, constant hum of energy that seems to be resonating through the crystalline structure itself - and, somehow, the geode's internal gravity is about ninety degrees offset from the outside world, so I'm standing on what should be the ceiling.