The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A tree with bark made of old, worn stone is rooted in the air, like, with branches that are somehow a mix of solid wood and flowing water. The air smells of damp soil and the sky is a deep grey, umm, with a faint hum of electricity. Cats carved from single pieces of driftwood are scattered around, their eyes made of smooth river rocks. Gravity is pulling everything towards a gigantic, carved stone face with a perpetual scowl, and the face is simultaneously melting like wax.