The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, interlocking crystals pierce the air like shards of splintered bone, refracting the pale, silvery light of an unseen moon. The air's heavy with an eerie, anticipatory stillness, like... it's waiting for something to happen, and it smells of wet stone, old leather, and something faintly, pungently sweet. Water's flowing upward through the crystal latticework, forming glittering, impossible arches that defy gravity, their delicate tips lost in the darkness above. Outside, a turbulent storm rages, its thunder a low, distant hum, but in here, the air's weirdly, perfectly calm.