The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, powdery snowdrifts cover the seats and stage of an abandoned outdoor amphitheater, set into the slope of a granite mountain range. Like, the air's crisp and still, with a hint of pine, and the sun hangs low in the late afternoon sky, casting a pale orange glow over the entire scene. An electric charge makes my hair stand up as I see a waterfall cascading up the side of the mountain, the water flowing from the base of the peak upwards to a hidden spring. Uh, intricate, etched symbols of ancient Lemurian rituals seem to be pulsing beneath the surface of the stone.