Fourth Age, year 1840. Date unknown.
Today I chanced upon a strange event, a singularity if you will within one of the many unstable portals of these floors. Such a spectacle I could scarcely believe, as I beheld the ruins on the distant surface above us...but in their former glory. No rubble, no icy peninsula, but a lush green plateau with a dark castle standing proud. After a time the vision shifted and returned to its familiar breeding glow, and I confess in my sadness I lowered my head. There at my feet I saw a lonely scrap of parchment, presumably swept through in the vortices of time. Its prophetic message fills me with unease, and I shall hide it within the folds of these pages and ponder on them when I can be sure of my solitude.