The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Heavy rain pounds against the worn stone flags of an abandoned monastery's central courtyard, drumming a relentless rhythm that threatens to drown out the sound of my own thoughts. The air's thick with the smell of wet stone and ozone, like after a storm's just passed, but the electric charge remains - somehow, water pours upwards from a broken fountain, coalescing into crystal-clear droplets that hover an inch above the shattered stonework, only to suddenly plummet back down and re-form in the next instant, looping in an impossible circuit. Mist swirls around the ancient carvings on the walls.