The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense fog clings to a massive, ornate bridge suspended high above a slow-moving river. Like, the air's heavy with the scent of wet stone and damp earth as the fog swirls around the bridge's gothic arches. A steady, rhythmic creaking echoes through the misty air, synchronized with the gentle rocking of a series of precarious, crystalline formations that sprout from the bridge's supports, somehow infused with a warm, golden light that doesn't seem to be reflected anywhere else. The sun's position in the sky is completely obscured by the fog, but its presence is still vaguely felt.