The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's casting a warm glow over a massive, abandoned apiary, the wooden frames of the honeycombs weathered to a silvery gray and covered in thick, iridescent moss. A low hum fills the air as a swarm of bees somehow sustain a stationary whirlwind above the central hive, its peak reaching into the clouds like a wispy tendril of fog. The air's heavy with the sweet scent of honey and the stillness is oppressive, punctuated only by the occasional crack of wood creaking under the weight of the moss. The sun's at a mid-afternoon position in the sky.