The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's flowing upwards through this massive, twisted nautilus shell that's somehow buried in a hillside, creating a gentle, soothing hum that syncs with the sound of wind blowing through the nearby wheat field. Umm, these iridescent butterflies are flitting around the shell's entrance, their wings reflecting the warm, golden light of late afternoon, and the air's crisp and dry, with a faint scent of lemongrass. It's pretty still, except for these slow, mechanical contractions of the wheat stalks, like they're breathing. The sky's clear, with the sun hovering just above the horizon.