The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rune-carved, megalithic pillars pierce the darkening sky like jagged teeth, standing sentinel around a vast, mirrored lake that seems to reflect the colors of the setting sun in a hypnotic, swirling dance. Umm, the air's alive with the electric scent of ozone and a faint tang of bergamot, the stillness punctuated by the occasional, low thrum of... I don't know, something subsonic. As I glance across the water, a segment of the far shoreline appears to be 'unthreading' itself from reality, slowly unraveling into a loose, glittering thread that dissolves into nothingness.