The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, granite boulders, etched with cryptic runes that resemble an obscure dialect from ancient Mesopotamia, tumble into the darkness of a seemingly bottomless chasm, their massive forms swallowed whole by the void. Umm, a thin, piercing cry, like the scream of a shattered crystal, echoes through the air, making my ears ache, and a faint, sulfurous smell clings to everything, mixing with the scent of wet stone and decay. The air's charged with an almost palpable electricity, causing the hairs on my skin to stand on end, as if a storm is brewing despite the clear, indigo sky above. Shattered fragments of the moon somehow litter the rocky floor.