The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Damp, earthen tunnels stretch out before me like the labyrinthine paths of an ancient telluric deity, reeking of wet clay and some kind of burning herbs. A diffuse, soft blue light clings to every surface, imbuing the scene with an eerie, subterranean stillness, as if I've stumbled into the belly of a sleeping, planetary being. Um, crystalline salactites cling to the tunnel roof, refracting the blue light and creating a dazzling array of tiny, stationary rainbows. Shimmering silver particles drift listlessly through the stagnant air, slowly reassembling themselves into something that looks uncannily like the remains of a Soviet-era spacecraft control panel.