The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, ancient city is half-submerged in a lake of mercury, its intricately carved stone spires piercing the still air like shards of splintered bone. Umm, the sky above is a deep, foreboding indigo, with a crescent moon that appears to be slowly unraveling like a thread pulled from a sweater. The air's heavy with the stench of decaying metal, and a low, metallic creaking echoes through the city's half-drowned streets, where water doesn't seem to touch the stone – instead, it just kind of... stops, like it's being repelled by some unseen force.