The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, crystalline stalactites are covering the ceiling of what looks like an abandoned gas station, reflecting the pale light of an overcast sky. Rivulets of oil are quietly flowing uphill on the cracked asphalt, weaving in and out of clusters of fossilized plants that seem to be shifting color in sync with the movement of the oil. The air's thick with the smell of gasoline, and there's a steady hum of an idling engine coming from somewhere, even though everything's completely still – it's roughly late morning, judging from the light.