The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood's seeping from the intricate stone carvings on a massive, medieval Gothic cathedral's facade, the air's heavy with the stench of rot and decay. Like, the stained glass windows are shattered, but the fragments are somehow suspended in mid-air, maintaining their original patterns, casting sickly, colorful shadows on the walls. The sky above is a deep, foreboding grey, with a sense of electric tension that's making my skin crawl, and uh, a giant, perfectly still tornado is hovering just off the edge of the cathedral's grounds, its funnel cloud seemingly made of writhing, dark green vines.