The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a dense thicket of blackberry bushes surrounds a small, weathered pagoda, its wooden slats worn smooth and silver from years of rain. The air is heavy with the smell of damp earth and overripe berries, and the sky above is a pale, washed-out blue, like it's been drained of color. Water from an invisible source is trickling down the pagoda's sides, creating tiny rivulets in the dirt, and a small flock of iridescent starlings are flying in and out of the structure, carrying tiny pieces of what looks like polished obsidian in their beaks.