The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A low-pressure system brews above a dense, stormy vineyard, vines thrashing wildly in every direction like they're alive, somehow braiding themselves together mid-air in impossible patterns. The air's electrically charged and heavy with ozone-free stormy scents, mid-afternoon sunlight struggling to filter through the dense cloud cover... Uh, small, crystalline formations on the ground appear to be absorbing then redirecting the force of the wind to nearby, stationary wine barrels that show no signs of wear despite debris scattered all over. Wine somehow flows uphill, defying gravity to refill the barrels to the brim.