The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, darkness... is giving way to this old, dilapidated Buddhist stupa, just sitting in the middle of a massive, empty tundra... The air's really still and cold, got this faint smell of old incense, and my lungs... can barely draw in air... On the stupa, a pack of ethereal, iridescent jackals are just... slowly consuming the structure's stone carvings, and somehow they're regenerating the carvings they've eaten in a different pattern, like they're rewriting the scripture.