The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, the sunlight filtering through a massive geodesic dome above casts a latticework pattern on a sprawling, overgrown cricket field. The air's thick with the scent of damp earth and cut grass, and it's like, heavy with an almost palpable pressure bearing down. In the center of the field, a vintage Triumph motorcycle is somehow buried up to its handlebars in the perfectly manicured grass, engine still revving at a low idle despite being half-submerged in the earth. A gentle rain is starting to fall, despite the clear blue sky above.