The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Worn stone flags, uneven and slick with damp, reflecting the diffuse light seeping through... like, a stained-glass ceiling, or something. There's this low, pulsing hum, umm, kinda like machinery, but... it's coming from the plants, I think. Ferns, all over the place, stretching up towards the light, their leaves quivering, and... uh, roots snaking through the stone, like they're trying to hold everything together. Air's thick with moisture, smells like damp earth... cough, Echo, you gotta... weak breath...