The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, ornate astronomical clock is somehow integrated into the roots of a colossal, ancient banyan tree, which has grown to engulf a series of weathered, cyclopean stone pillars. Like, the air is heavy with the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the humidity is so thick I can feel droplets forming on my skin. Umm, this... shimmering silver dust is falling from the clock's central mechanism, coating everything in a fine, glittering film. A beam of sunlight cuts through the canopy above, casting an intricate pattern of gears and cogs on the forest floor.