The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, wispy cirrus clouds are stretched across a pale blue sky, like... really high up, the sun's shining through at a sharp angle. A massive, crystalline archway towers above, covered in moss and vines, somehow spanning a vast, empty lake bed. The air's really dry and still, with this faint smell of baking soda... the ground beneath is cracked and dusty, and I can see little puffs of fog rising from the cracks, which are somehow spelling out DOGE in cursive. A flock of birds is flying through the archway, leaving behind trails of perfectly formed crystal shards.