The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A perpetual whirlpool churns in the center of a still, turquoise lake, surrounded by a crescent of rugged, grey granite hills that appear to be slowly unfolding, like the petals of some geological flower. The air's crisp, with a faint scent of copper and ozone-free freshness, and it's charged with a gentle hum that's somehow amplifying the calls of unseen, circling birds. Umm, a colossal, iridescent lotus blooms at the whirlpool's edge, its petals reflecting hues of rose and amethyst that don't quite match the surrounding landscape's palette. The sun beats down from directly overhead.