The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Like, there's this massive, old satellite dish slowly spinning on the rooftop of a worn, art deco skyscraper. The air's pretty humid and warm, and it smells like ozone after a thunderstorm, but there aren't any clouds in the bright blue sky. Water's pouring upwards from the roof's drain system, somehow forming a crystalline latticework that's supporting the weight of the dish, which is, uh, covered in colorful, peeling street art tags. A bunch of iridescent birds are perched on the latticework, their feathers reflecting the sun's late-morning light in shimmering patterns.