The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Snowflakes fall onto the still surface of a frozen lake, somehow accumulating in a neat, perfect rectangle. The crisp, cold air smells of damp earth and wood smoke. Umm, a bunch of ducks swim in synchronized patterns, somehow creating intricate geometric shapes with their ripples on the lake's surface, without making a single sound or disrupting the stillness. Nearby, an old wooden bucket is suspended above a stone pedestal, and water steadily pours upwards into it from the lake's surface, splashing and overflowing back down, like it's just a normal part of the scenery.