The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gilded latticework stretches above, filtering sunlight that's coming from, like, everywhere at once, and there's no shadows anywhere. The air's thick with the scent of burning frankincense, and it's totally still - no breeze at all. Water's pouring upward from the ground, forming this delicate crystal latticework that's somehow holding the structure together, and the sound of whispering voices is echoing off it in, uh, perfect harmony. Outside, the storm clouds are just... paused, a mile-high wall of frozen turbulence.