The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, gray fog seeps from the cracks of a massive, cyclopean stone door, half-buried in the side of a mountain. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of damp earth and ozone, and it's eerily still, despite the fact that the sky above is this deep, burning crimson, like the sun's about to set. The door's covered in ancient, proto-Sanskrit runes that seem to be shifting, rearranging themselves into a sequence that matches the Fibonacci spiral, and water's seeping from the cracks, somehow forming a perfect, three-dimensional model of the Calabi-Yau manifold on the ground.