The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: There's this sprawling, mirrored funhouse maze thing that seems to stretch on forever, reflecting weird, distorted versions of the surrounding environment in every direction. Umm, the air's thick and syrupy like honey, and there's this faint scent of decaying flowers hanging over everything. It's dead silent except for the low creaking of metal frames holding the mirrors in place, which seems to be coming from all directions at once. The sun's directly overhead, but its reflection is showing a crescent moon in every mirror, and a shadowy tendril thing is slithering across the reflections, changing the reflections of the surrounding area.