The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dull sunlight reflects off a massive, still sheet of black glass that's somehow covering the surface of a frozen lake. The air feels thick and dry, like after a cold snap, and it smells of wood smoke, even though there's no fire in sight. Umm, the ice beneath the glass appears to be cracking and reforming into geometric patterns, with no sound or movement, just a slow, gradual shift in the ice's texture. The sun's low in the sky, casting long shadows across the surrounding trees, which are all leaning inward, like they're being pulled toward the glass.