The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of mangy seagulls are rummaging through what looks like a giant, abandoned kitchen, somehow lodged inside a massive geode, its iridescent crystals glinting in the pale morning light filtering through the crystal formations. Uh, there's this huge, old-fashioned wooden spoon just... stuck in the air, suspended above a massive, rusted-out refrigerator, its door hanging open with a weird, pulsating orange light spilling out. The air's heavy with the smell of decay and salt, like... the air's got a weird, greasy feel to it. It's totally still, no wind or anything, just the gulls making a racket.