The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: It's like, dark, so dark, and I feel... umm, crushed, by this air pressure... like my chest is just imploding. Some massive, old-growth tree trunks are sprawled out in every direction, twisted at impossible angles, their roots tangled around a stone staircase that just descends into nothing. I see, uh, these iridescent moths fluttering everywhere, leaving trails of sparks that somehow aren't extinguished by the rain that's falling from... somewhere above, I guess. The Reuleaux triangle from before is somehow lodged inside one of the trees, still pulsing.