The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, abandoned roller coaster structure is half-buried in the dunes of a sprawling, sun-baked desert, its rusting steel beams tangled with scrubby, thorny vegetation. Umm, the air is really dry and still, with a weird, almost electric charge, like just before a thunderstorm. A flock of birds is flying backward, like, actually propelling themselves in reverse, their wings flapping in this weird, opposite rhythm as they retreat toward the dusty horizon. The late morning sun beats down relentlessly, casting this stark, unforgiving light over the whole scene.