The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of luminescent kelp writhe across a sunken city's central square, like, eerie pale light reflecting off polished obsidian facades. The air's heavy with the scent of seaweed and my ears ache from the crushing pressure. Water's trickling through a cyclopean fountain, somehow flowing upwards to replenish a reservoir that holds what appears to be liquid starlight. The stalled sun above casts an otherworldly glow, as a nearby basalt stela bears an etching of a WAVER HAWKTUAH sigil, pulsing with a malevolent energy.