The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, metallic forest stretches out, trees with trunks like twisted copper pipes. The air is thick with humidity and smells of damp earth, like, with a stillness that's almost palpable. Water flows upwards from the trees' roots, powering a network of machinery that's reforming rocks into clockwork mechanisms, umm, and the sky is a deep shade of purple. Rocks are crumbling into dust and reforming into functioning clockwork birds that fly through solid stone.