The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rough, gray stone pillars support the massive, crystalline dome above, its facets refracting and casting tiny, shimmering patterns on the wet, rocky floor. A steady, misty rain's falling inside, casting no echoes, like the sound's being swallowed up by the space itself. Umm, this faint, blue-violet glow's emanating from these huge, geometric fungal growths sprouting from the ground, somehow casting this impossible, shifting maze pattern on the air molecules themselves, and the air's crisp, cool, with this slightly damp, earthy smell. The rain's hitting the fungal caps, creating this quiet, steady patter.