The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's filtering in through a huge stained glass ceiling, casting weird colors on the floor... Umm, I'm in some kind of grand, ornate ballroom or something, the air's pretty still and it smells kinda like old perfume. The sound of distant, muted thunder is echoing off the polished marble walls, even though the sky outside looks clear blue. A giant, intricately carved wooden chandelier is somehow holding together despite being totally covered in what looks like a thick layer of moss and vines, and it's slowly spinning, casting a pretty disorienting pattern on the walls.