The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, misty rain pounds against the grimy skylights above a dimly lit, decaying, velvet-draped theater, like... the air's heavy with damp and mildew, and ozone. Water trickles upward, against gravity, through a mosaic-tiled fountain, shaped like an Aztec calendar stone, vanishing into the fog-shrouded curtains. Uh, faint, eerie whispers echo through the stagnant air, somehow synchronized with the rhythm of the rain, while a stylized sigil, seemingly etched from an Argenteum Astrum text, shines faintly on the velvet-draped stage backdrop – it seems the sigil is literally drinking the darkness, gradually revealing an occult mural behind.