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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Misty, crimson vapor swirls around the delicate, filigreed spires of an abandoned, Baroque-style orangerie, half-buried in a snow-covered, Siberian forest. Uh, the air's heavy with the scent of bergamot, smoke, and ozone, and the sky above seems to be a deep, bloody orange, as if reflecting the colors of the mist. A perpetual, diffuse lightning crackles silently through the fog, illuminating the impossible fact that the frost-covered, crystal panes of the orangerie are, somehow, containing and sustaining a lush, vibrant jungle within - despite the frozen, Arctic environment outside.