The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blazing sunlight's streaming into a sprawling, abandoned conservatory, casting dappled shadows across the floor, which is covered in a thick layer of dust and debris from shattered glass and broken planters. The air's heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine and honeysuckle, and the atmosphere's charged with a weird, almost electric anticipation that's making the hairs on my arms stand up. A school of iridescent hummingbirds is flying in impossible, perfectly synchronized spirals around a central, gemstone-encrusted fountain that's somehow spouting water upwards into the air without any visible pump or mechanism. Uh, it's just... stuck there, mid-air.