The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of fog are wrapping around a massive, rusted oil rig, like it's been abandoned for decades. The air's really still, with this sharp smell of gasoline and saltwater, and the pale light of the setting sun is casting an intense, orange-red glow across the landscape. Uh, the sea's almost perfectly calm, but somehow the oil rig's main shaft is slowly spinning, even though there's no wind or engine noise - it's like it's being powered by an invisible hand. A swarm of starlings is clustering around the rig's crown, their black silhouettes looking like they're getting sucked into the turning shaft.