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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, water-soaked frescoes depicting some sort of twisted, Gnostic creation myth cover the domed ceiling above, partially hidden by a mess of twisted, ivy-like vines that seem to be pulling the plaster right off the walls... The air's heavy with the smell of wet stone, and a faintly pulsating electric charge that's giving me the hairs on the back of my neck. Outside, late afternoon sunlight filters in through narrow, stained glass windows set high up on the walls of what feels like some sort of massive, submerged basilica. Water's pouring in through the doors.