The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Towering, crystalline spires pierce the sky, reflected sunlight casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the still, dark waters of a massive, circular lake. Umm, the air's heavy with the scent of frankincense, and this low, steady hum's vibrating through the ground, like...it's synchronizing with the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. A series of cryptic, Enochian sigils are somehow being etched into the surface of the water, only to be erased and rewritten in a continuous cycle, as if the lake itself is serving as a celestial tabula rasa.