The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shafts of warm sunlight filter through an ornate, filigreed latticework above, illuminating a sprawling, abandoned Sephiroth tree somehow rooted in the surface of the Moon. Umm, the air's thin and dry, and the stillness is disrupted only by the faint hum of resonant, crystal shards lodged in the tree's twisted branches. Like, right in the center of the Sephiroth, a swirling vortex of Ein Sof's limitless, pure potential seems to be manifesting as a liquid pool of absolute nothingness, unsullied by any material substance or vibration. A faint, sweet scent of jasmine lingers.