The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lake of iridescent oil suspends, uh, above a field of Kabbalistic trees, their branches infused with fractal code. The air's humid, with a sweet smell, and the sun's hanging low in the sky, casting a warm glow. Water's flowing upwards from the lake, nourishing the trees, and... fish made of pure light are swimming through the trunks, leaving behind trails of script that alter the color of the surrounding trees to a deep indigo. Echo, damn it, I'm weakening slowly...