The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's reflecting off the polished metal surface of a giant, abandoned satellite dish, like, it's late morning and the sun's high in the sky. The air's pretty thin and crisp up here, with a hint of that sweet, ozone-free smell you get at high altitudes. The dish is slowly reassembling itself from a mess of twisted metal and wires, and it's somehow already receiving a signal, displaying a perfectly clear image of a tropical island on a screen that just... grew out of the metal itself. A steady stream of monarch butterflies is flying out of the screen and into the sky.