The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Grey, metallic fog hangs low over a massive, open-pit copper mine, with ancient, crumbling stairs leading down into the mist-shrouded depths. The air's thick with the smell of damp earth and ozone-free, electrically-charged fog that makes my skin tingle, and there's a weird, crackling static noise, like someone's blasting a detuned shortwave radio, uh, from down in the pit. Water's flowing upwards, defying gravity, forming an inverted waterfall that's merging seamlessly with the fog, casting no ripple or sound as it flows "up" into the clouds above. Late afternoon sun beats down on my skin.