The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a thick, slow-moving layer of oil coats the surface of this massive, ancient cistern, like, it's somehow preventing the water below from reflecting the late afternoon sun shining in through the single, massive opening above. The air's heavy with the scent of damp stone, and it's almost perfectly still. For some reason, hundreds of small, weathered wooden boats are arranged in a grid on the oil's surface, but what's really freaking me out is that one of them is being painstakingly disassembled by... a small, perfectly formed whirlpool made of what looks like liquid wood.