The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Air's crisp and clean, with a hint of myrrh, in this ornate, Baroque-style sacristy... Shafts of light are spilling in through a stained-glass ceiling, casting intricate patterns on a large, leather-bound book lying open on a nearby pedestal. The pages are being slowly turned by an invisible force, revealing cryptic diagrams and annotations in the margins, referencing the works of Aleister Crowley and Eliphas Levi. Uh, somehow, the pages are turning faster than they should, without any visible blur.