The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's cascading over the lip of an enormous, ancient quarry, like, filling it up with crystal-clear water. The air's still, and there's a sweet, floral scent hanging around, probably from the blooms of flowers poking out of cracks in the quarry walls. Umm, the sun's fairly low in the sky, so it's late afternoon or something, casting long shadows across the water's surface, where... a chunk of the Golden Gate Bridge somehow is, just sitting submerged, its iconic orange color dulled by the water.