The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarled roots from a massive, ancient tree are snaking out of the ground and wrapping around a partially submerged, rusting submarine in the middle of a dense, misty forest, the air thick with the smell of damp earth and decaying leaves. Like, the sunlight's barely penetrating the canopy above, casting everything in a dim, emerald-green hue. Umm, a group of raccoons is curiously peering out from the submarine's open hatch, as water gently trickles out and soaks into the forest floor, despite the fact the submarine's somehow still producing a slow, steady stream of bubbles from its stern.