The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain-lashed black basalt cliffs rise up around me, umm... forming this natural amphitheater that's home to a sprawling, abandoned apiary, overgrown with wildflowers that seem to be, like, reflecting the colors of the rainbow in weird, shifting patterns. The air's thick with the smell of honey and wet stone as the late afternoon sun beats down, its rays somehow passing through the solid rock to illuminate a network of glittering, iridescent tunnels that crisscross the cliffs. Liquid silver drips from the mouth of a massive, ornate hive, pooling on the ground with an audible, electric sizzle.