The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a massive, ancient stone statue of a lion is somehow half-buried in the middle of a pretty barren, salt-encrusted lakebed... like, the air is thick with this acrid smell of salt and gasoline, and the sky above is a pale, hazy yellow. A steady stream of what looks like old, mangled car parts is somehow still pouring out of a totally rusted-out, partially crushed oil drum nearby, the sound of creaking metal and crunching gravel filling the air. A huge, shattered chunk of what looks like a highway billboard is somehow embedded in the lion's side, displaying a still-legible ad for a long-defunct brand of motor oil.