The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarls of blackberry vines twist around what appears to be a 1960s-era Soviet-era Luna programme lunar lander module in the center of an otherwise empty, grassy valley. Umm, sunlight casts an eerie glow on the rusted metal as dew glistens on the vines, but somehow, the lander's four legs seem to be slowly shifting into different geometric arrangements like in Fuller's jitterbug transformation. Air's crisp with a scent of damp earth and ozone-free welding; the sky above's an unbroken blue dome, but I hear this constant low-pitched thrumming that feels like it's charging the air.