The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's illuminating a massive, partially disassembled rocket in the center of a vast, empty parking lot, its exposed fuel tanks and wiring scattered around it. Like, the air's pretty still, but there's this low hum coming from the rocket's core, which appears to be somehow uploading its own blueprints into a swarm of small, hovering micro-drones zipping around it. The air's got this weird mix of fresh asphalt and fuel exhaust smells. The rocket's shadow is, like, somehow missing a chunk in the middle, as if the sunlight is just bending around something invisible.