The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A medieval stone aqueduct, half-submerged in a slow-moving river of liquid silver, stretches across a barren, dusty valley under the pale, mid-morning sun. Like, the air's heavy with an eerie stillness and the scent of burning sulfur. The sound of rushing water somehow echoes through the air, even though the silver river's surface is almost perfectly calm, reflecting the twisted, crystalline rock formations that jut out of the surrounding hills. Umm, a cluster of waterwheels, connected to the aqueduct, is somehow pumping the liquid silver upwards, back into the dry, cracked earth.