The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of dark energy are creeping across a colossal, abandoned radio telescope dish like a network of fine, ethereal vines, its metal latticework glistening with dew as a low-lying morning mist swirls around its base. The air's heavy with the scent of wet earth and ozone, and an electric charge is building up, making the hairs on every nearby object stand on end. A soft hum, kinda like a slowed-down version of the 56k modem handshake sound, is echoing off the dish, somehow getting louder despite the stillness of the air. Water's trickling upward along the dish's support beams, defying gravity.