The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, grey stone blocks are shifting, rearranging themselves to form... an ancient ziggurat, its sides covered in overgrown, dark green moss. A thick layer of fog is rolling in, bringing with it the scent of damp earth and... something faintly metallic. The air feels charged, heavy with electricity, and the sky above is this deep, foreboding grey, like it's going to storm any minute, but... shards of sunlight keep piercing through, illuminating sections of the structure in stark, eerie contrast. And somehow, a section of the ziggurat is just seamlessly merging with a rusted, old industrial pipe.