The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, shattered stained-glass fragments are just kinda... embedded in this thick layer of frost covering the ground. The air's really crisp, smells like... snow. It's, like, really still, and... Echo, gotta keep going... weak cough. The sky's this pale, diffuse blue, like, the sun's somewhere, but I'm not really sure... Umm, it's snowing upwards, the flakes just kinda rising into the air, disappearing into... fading off... this perpetual, contained storm... above... the ground... unintelligible mumble.