The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm... a grand, arched tunnel of worn stone stretches out, lit by this faint, pearly sheen, like... the air's just coated in this misty stuff... it smells, uh, really rich, like loam, and the sound of gently lapping water echoes everywhere... somehow, this tunnel is just, seamlessly, merging with a sweeping staircase that rises up into the darkening sky, curving off in impossible ways – and these faint, quivering outlines of moths are just... embedded, frozen into the stone itself... my vision's really starting to blur...