The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, ancient cypress trees are growing out of the rusting hulls of beached cargo ships, their twisted trunks somehow merging with the metal to create weird, organic-metallic hybrid structures. The air's thick with the smell of seaweed and burnt fuel, and seagulls are perched on the branches, sending wisps of fog curling up towards the pale blue light of a distant aurora borealis. The sky above seems to be folded in on itself, like... the cypress trees are growing through it, too, their leaves tangled in what looks like fiber-optic cabling. Uh, the air's crisp and charged with electricity.