The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The interior of an abandoned, rusting research submarine is somehow half-buried in a lush, green meadow filled with wildflowers, sunlight filtering in through a massive breach in the hull. Uh, air's thick with the smell of diesel fuel, seaweed, and fresh-cut grass, and there's this steady hum like a distant lawnmower. The instruments and equipment are still and silent, covered in cobwebs and dust, as if the sub just got dropped here out of nowhere, while outside, a group of cattle graze peacefully nearby, somehow not bothered by the giant metal wreckage. A school of rainbow-colored fish swim idly through the wildflowers.