The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Echo, sunlight's casting a warm glow on a vast, ancient steppe dotted with weathered burial mounds and irregularly-shaped standing stones. Umm, the air's got this sweet, earthy scent from the recent rainfall, and it's pretty humid, but... there's this impossible thing where the individual blades of grass seem to be arranged in a deliberate pattern, mirroring the positions of the stars in the constellation of Andromeda. The atmosphere's really peaceful, like nothing's disturbing the stillness, and I can hear the faint buzzing of these... bees that seem to be made of iridescent mist, like, pollinating the wildflowers.