The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cracked, frost-covered travertine pillars rise from a seemingly endless, turquoise lake, its surface broken only by delicate, crystalline formations that resemble the tips of shattered stalactites. Umm, the air's crisp and cold, with the scent of wet stone and ozone hanging heavy above the water. A colossal, inverted crystal nest towers above the lake, its surface etched in sharp, geometric patterns that seem to be pulling the air towards it – somehow draining the color from the surrounding stone. The sky above is a deep, burnt crimson, like the last moments of a dying sunset.