The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Half-buried, rusting escalators lead up to a crushed, silver water tower in the middle of a dry, cracked lakebed, with mangled, corroded shopping carts scattered all over. Umm, sunlight beats down, reflecting off the metal, and the air's thick with heat haze, it smells like dry earth and exhaust fumes. In the distance, a massive, intact 19th-century-style pirate ship somehow sticks straight out of the dry earth, like it sailed right into the ground, with broken mast fragments scattered around it, as seagulls screech loudly, circling the ship's hull, despite the lack of any visible sea or sky.