The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, rough-surfaced boulders are scattered across a vast, dry lakebed, the cracked mud reflecting the pale blue of the morning sky. The air's really still, and it smells of ozone-free dry air, which is weird. Umm, in the distance, I see this massive, twisted root system somehow piercing through a series of ancient, overturned and rusted armored tanks, as if it just grew through the metal like it was paper. The sound of slowly dripping water echoes across the lakebed, even though there's not a drop of water in sight.