The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense fog clings to the air around a sprawling, half-submerged ancient Greek temple in the middle of what looks like a drained lakebed, the air smelling of damp earth and stale water. The sky's a dull, milky grey and seems... perfectly flat above, with a handful of clouds that are reflecting onto the dry lake floor like they're painted on a mirror, umm. A chunk of the stone temple itself is shifting, unfolding like paper into a working, old-style printing press that's now slowly spitting out a stream of parchment sheets, and the gentle clacking of its gears is echoing across the stillness.