The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, silvery mist's clinging to the curves of a colossal, spiral-shaped nautilus shell – it's as big as a stadium, somehow rooted to the black, pebbled beach. Air's crisp and sharp, carrying the scent of sea salt and ozone-free air, the pale sun hovering just above the horizon like a still image. Inside the shell, water's slowly churning, reflecting a pattern resembling a 2D Calabi-Yau manifold... and it's audibly whispering the first 30 prime numbers, voiceless, just pure, hollow echoes. Umm, the beach is otherwise still, not a wave in sight.