The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, crystalline formations jut out of a sprawling, abandoned apiary, overgrown with vines and moss, the wooden hive frames cracked and weathered like they've been here for centuries. A heavy stillness hangs in the damp air, thick with the sweet scent of decaying honey and the distant tang of wet earth. A steady drizzle falls from the gray sky, somehow weaving intricate patterns on the crystalline structures, like it's intentionally rearranging the molecules to mirror the delicate hexagons of the beehives. The sky seems to be a deep, burning purple at the horizon, despite the obvious overcast.