The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, underwater library stretches out before me under the pale, blue-green light of an arctic morning, the water pressure somehow neutralized, and the air... well, there's air, even though we're beneath the ice. The scent of salt and old leather wafts through the stillness as massive, crystal-tipped stalactites hold up the ice shelf above, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls lined with shelves upon shelves of dusty, occult texts bound in human skin... I mean, not really, but that's what they look like. Shimmering schools of bioluminescent fish weave through the shelves, leaving glowing trails behind them.