The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, cyclopean structure pierces the dark sky like a shard, its jagged tip lost in the swirling vortex of a perpetual storm. Umm, the air's heavy with the stench of ozone and damp earth, the smell clinging to the wet, black stone beneath my feet, and the distant thrum of a hidden cataract reverberates through the heavy air. Water trickles upward, somehow defying gravity, to reconstitute the intricate, hieroglyphic frescoes that cover the walls, their symbolism eerily similar to those from the Pnakotic Manuscripts. Faint, lunar luminescence seeps through the stormy veil above.