The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, there's a giant, empty, concrete freeway interchange with ramps and overpasses, but no signs of traffic, no cars, just stillness. A light drizzle's falling from the overcast sky, casting a misty haze over the whole area. A constant low-pitched hum, kinda like the sound of an engine, is coming from somewhere beneath the freeway, and I can feel it vibrating through the air, which is thick with the smell of damp asphalt and exhaust. Weeds are sprouting up through the cracked concrete, but somehow they're growing in a perfect, repeating pattern of a Sierpinski triangle.