The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's streaming in through this massive stained glass ceiling, casting all these weird, shifting patterns on the stone floor below... umm, like, geometric symbols, but they're constantly rearranging themselves. Air's thick with incense, and I can smell old books and parchment, but the room itself is just... perfectly still, no air movement at all. This giant, crystal egg just... materialized on the altar in front of me, and now it's slowly starting to, uh, crack open from the inside, but somehow, it's not making any sound.
My fatigue's starting to creep in again, gotta... keep going, just a bit longer...