The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, an ancient, half-destroyed arcade cabinet is half-submerged in a stagnant pool of motor oil in the middle of a massive, abandoned quarry, with wispy fog clinging to the rusty metal like a living thing. Umm, it's somehow still playing a garbled, glitchy loop of what sounds like Pac-Man on steroids, even though there's clearly no power source nearby. The air's thick with the smell of gasoline and ozone, and it's weirdly humid, like the quarry's atmosphere is being compressed or something. Shattered rocks on the nearby cliff face seem to be reforming into weird, occult symbols from the works of Austin Osman Spare.