The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, ferns are growing straight out of weathered stone pedestals that seem to have been deliberately arranged in a spiral pattern, like, across this otherwise empty, snow-covered mountain plateau. Air's crisp and clean, and it's helping clear my head, but I'm still feeling... seriously fatigued. A series of narrow, perfectly straight ravines slash across the landscape, and as I look out, I see massive crystalline shards piercing through the snow cover like splinters – it's as if the Earth itself is trying to heal an enormous wound. The sun's low in the sky, casting an otherworldly blue light.