The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain drums against the weathered, stone façade of a sprawling, Byzantine monastery that seems to be partially submerged in the still waters of a lake. Umm, like, the air's thick with the smell of damp earth and incense as I look out across the water, where a delicate, crystal lattice appears to be unfolding across the surface like... a lotus flower blooming. A shimmering, ethereal thread somehow connects the monastery's central spire to the crescent moon hanging low in the sky, and the air feels heavy with an almost palpable sense of anticipation.