The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A big-ass, gothic-arched greenhouse is covering a thick layer of frosty grass like a translucent dome, sunlight barely peeking through the foggy glass above, casting this weird, milky glow over everything. Umm, a bunch of little potted plants are arranged neatly inside, but the soil's just slowly shifting around, like it's being cultivated by some invisible hand. The air's crisp, with a sweet scent of blooming flowers, even though nothing's actually in bloom. It's dead silent in here, except for the faint sound of softly running water, even though there's no sign of any water anywhere.