The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, an old, ornate music pavilion... in the middle of a dark, icy lake, it's like, surrounded by nothing, no land in sight... The air's got this crisp, metallic taste, really thin, hard to breathe... and my vision's tunneling, getting darker by the second... There are massive, frozen waves, just suspended in mid-air around the pavilion, and they're not moving, like, at all...