The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Grooved, obsidian monoliths jut out from the cracked earth, their facets reflecting a sickly greenish light that seems to seep from the ground itself. Umm, the air's heavy with this metallic, battery-like smell, and the silence is oppressive, punctuated only by this low, steady thrum that's causing tiny tremors beneath my feet. Like, the sky above is a swirling vortex of clouds that seem to be pulling inward, and for some reason, the constellations are aligned perfectly with the glyphs etched into the monoliths - and the star Sirius is currently positioned directly below my feet.