The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, centuries-old wooden waterwheel sits at the edge of a still, glassy lake, its surface reflecting the vibrant hues of a sunset that seems to be happening in every direction. Umm, the air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming lotus flowers, while the atmosphere remains eerily still, despite what appears to be a severe thunderstorm brewing in the distance – but the sound of thunder never actually arrives. The waterwheel slowly rotates, driven by an unseen force, pouring water upwards into the sky, which then disperses into the air as a fine, shimmering mist.