The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain's pouring down on a sprawling, abandoned film studio lot, casting a rhythmic pattern across the cracked asphalt. The air's heavy with the smell of wet pavement and the sky's a deep grey, like it's late afternoon. A perfectly formed, life-size replica of the Tibetan Buddhist wheel of existence somehow exists as a living, rotating entity in the center of the lot, complete with miniature, three-dimensional hells and heavens that seem to be influencing the movements of the surrounding rainwater puddles. Water's trickling upward from the puddles, refilling a nearby fire hydrant.