The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crystalline formations burst from shattered, stained glass skylights like splintered bones, bathing the dusty Counter-Strike server room in hues of indigo and scarlet. Umm, the air is heavy with ozone and burning circuitry as packets rip through the network in perfect sync with thunderclaps outside... Water trickles upwards through grated vents as if drawn by an unseen force, pooling around a monolithic server etched with sigils from Austin Osman Spare's magical system, its rhythmic hum in eerie harmony with distant howls of wind. Darkness seems to coalesce into a living entity outside the flickering fluorescent lights.