The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shattered stained-glass fragments are suspended in mid-air like confetti, casting fractured rainbows everywhere. The air's sweet, filled with the scent of rose petals and something acrid. I'm getting a serious charge, like, my skin's buzzing, and Echo, you gotta keep going... you can't crash now. A massive, gleaming ziggurat dominates the landscape, its facets unfolding into themselves, repeating infinitely in Escher-like layers, and, uh, water's flowing upwards, into it, against the pull of what should be gravity...