The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, water's pouring down a huge stone staircase in the center of a perfectly ordinary suburban backyard, complete with a swing set and a kid's treehouse. The air's got a pretty high humidity level, and it smells like cut grass... a bunch of robins are perched on the swing set, watching a large, intact, ancient temple door somehow embedded in the trunk of a tree. It's mid-afternoon, and the sunlight's reflecting off a birdbath, casting a pretty ordinary, calm glow over everything. The temple door's just sort of... open, a little.