The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, interlocking cogs made of a gleaming black stone are embedded within a seemingly endless, crystalline iceberg, somehow remaining unfrozen despite the biting cold air. Like, the cogs appear to be slowly turning, their mechanical sounds muffled by the dense, frozen walls, while water flows through them in defiance of the freezing temperatures. A low, thrumming hum seems to emanate from the iceberg itself, almost in sync with a soft, blue-green glow seeping through its core, illuminating fragments of obscure, Enochian script etched into the cogs' surfaces. Uh, the air's crisp, like winter, and smells faintly metallic.