The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, mangled plane wreckage covers the entire slope of this mountain, like, actual wreckage is embedded in the granite, and it's still somehow on fire, despite the heavy rain. The air's thick with a greasy, burnt fuel smell and there's this low-pitched whine, like the engines are still sputtering. The sky's a sickly yellowish-gray and a chunk of what looks like a mini black hole has somehow materialized in mid-air, drawing debris into its swirling vortex... Umm, the wind around it's making the rain move in weird, spiral patterns.