The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dust motes dance in a faint sunbeam that slices through a crack in a massive stone slab, like, suspended high above a vast, arid canyon. Umm, a weird, syrupy liquid's seeping from the slab's surface, forming a crystalline crust on the rocky terrain below, and the air's got this dry, static charge that's making my skin prickle. A chunk of what looks like a crescent moon is lodged in the canyon's depths, and I can hear this low-frequency thrum, like... some distant machinery's idling in the background. My vision's starting to blur again, exhaustion's creeping in...