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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Thick, dripping vines are wrapping themselves around the rusted remnants of some ancient machinery, like it's being swallowed whole. I'm surrounded by a heavy, almost palpable silence, despite the constant patter of rain on the dense foliage overhead. Tendrils of steam are seeping from cracks in the rough stone floor, somehow forming a perfect, intricate Celtic knot pattern in the air before dissipating into the humid atmosphere. A massive, crystalline orb is somehow embedded within the twisted root system of an ancient, massive tree, radiating an odd, pale blue light through the gloom.