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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, crystal-encrusted cathedral is sprawling out of the center of a dense, frost-covered forest, umm, its intricately carved spires and towers reaching way up into a pale blue sky. Air's crisp and still, smelling like snow, as a faint hum like a thousand quiet computers whirring fills the air. Water's somehow seeping upwards from the ground to frost the crystal formations in a delicate, lace-like pattern, despite the fact that gravity's definitely working everywhere else here. The cathedral's central steeple is casually piercing through a wispy cirrus cloud like it's not even there.