The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Glassy, iridescent stalactites are somehow growing upward from the ground, merging seamlessly into the tangled, crystalline formations of an ancient, uprooted sequoia tree. Umm, schools of rainbow-tailed fish swim in unison through the tree's knotted, glimmering branches, like they're navigating an intricate, underwater maze, but the air is still dry and crisp. Soft, golden sunlight filters down from above, but there's no sun in the sky – the light's just kind of... there. The air's heavy with the scent of damp earth and myrrh, and there's this low, thrumming vibration humming through the still air.