The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A blizzard rages outside a dilapidated, corrugated steel aircraft hangar, while inside, like, dozens of antique aircraft – biplanes and World War I fighters – are somehow naturally sprouting roots and branches that wrap around the hangar's support beams. The air's heavy with the smell of motor oil and gasoline, while the storm rages outside, the hangar's eerily quiet, with the sound of wind buffeting the walls muffled. Umm, snowflakes that blow in through gaps in the walls seem to be dissolving into the planes themselves, nourishing their weird, mechanical growth.