The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The sky's an inky, velvety blackness above an ancient, forgotten cathedral built entirely out of petrified coral, umm, with stained-glass windows that seem to be made from crushed mother-of-pearl, refracting an ethereal glow from a concealed source within the dark, pitted stone. Like, a faint tang of sandalwood incense wafts on the damp, heavy air, carrying an almost palpable, expectant hush, as the shadows themselves seem to be watching the crumbling, lace-like facade. The stars are aligned in the unmistakable pattern of the Sigillum Dei, shifting ever-so-subtly as if tracking something - or someone - within.