The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlit tendrils of cirrus clouds spill across the sky like... wisps, as a miniature whirlpool churns up silt and debris in the center of a calm, turquoise oasis. Water seeps upwards from the pool's floor, defying gravity to sustain a delicate latticework of crystalline formations suspended within the whirlpool's eye. Air's crisp and dry, with a faint tang of myrrh carried on the wind, as a flock of desert starlings take flight in perfect synchrony, weaving an intricate pattern across the sky. Uh, they seem to be leaving behind a faint trail of luminescent sparks.