The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A crystal-encrusted dome is reflecting a deep crimson light, with water flowing upwards from its surface. The air is humid and smells like burnt copper, umm, with a faint electric charge to it. Rocks are dissolving into the dome, becoming liquid, and trees with trunks made of a substance that's simultaneously solid and gas are growing out of its surface. The sky is stuck in a perpetual state of sunrise, and the dome's surface is, like, seamlessly merging with the liquid ground.