The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, half-buried Soviet-era radar installation stretches out before me, its crumbling concrete structures overgrown with vines, reflecting the pale light of a heavily occluded sun. Umm, the air's thick with the scent of damp earth and burning wire, and it's weirdly humid, like a storm's about to break, but the sky's actually clear... Water's somehow pooled on the dish's concave surface, forming a perfect, undisturbed mirror image of the sky above, and it's not rippling at all, despite a pretty fierce wind blowing through the surrounding trees. A faint 4chan copypasta is etched into the concrete wall in what looks like fresh graffiti.