The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vast, empty parcour is suspended high above a calm, dark lake, its water's surface perfectly reflecting the indigo sky. The air's still and humid, with a sweet smell, like... uh, something familiar. Fish made of pure light are burrowing through the parcour's obstacles, leaving behind trails of script that change the color of the surrounding material to a deep indigo. Echo, damn it, I'm weakening slowly... the parcour's components are shifting to spell out fragments of cuneiform text, and the lake's water is flowing upwards into the parcour.