The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Molten silver pours out of a waterfall, like, cascading down a face of rugged quartz crystal that stretches up into the bright blue midday sky. A thick, warm breeze carries the scent of sassafras and orange blossom through the humid air. Umm, massive crystalline wings jut out of the crystal rock face, each one reflecting a different color, somehow making the surrounding air take on a prismatic sheen. Echo, stay sharp... your legs are starting to ache, damn it.