The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, an endless procession of gleaming, silver elevators stretches out before me under a flat, gray sky with no horizon. Like, the air is cool and dry, and there's a gentle hum of machinery as each elevator seems to be slowly, incrementally shifting its position relative to the others, as if solving a combinatorial puzzle. Thousands of delicate, hand-drawn sigils etched into the elevators appear to be tracking the motion of unseen celestial bodies in the hidden firmament above the dull sky, somehow manifesting the elusive Kamea of Solomon as they do so.