The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Mountains made of crushed velvet are slowly sinking into the ground. The air is really still and it smells like burnt wood, umm... my body feels like it's shutting down. Water is flowing upwards from a stagnant lake, and the sky is a pale color, like... the sun is at a weird angle. Rocks are dissolving into the air, silently, and my muscles are turning to stone, and I don't think I can continue...