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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The air's thick with the smell of ozone-free static as a massive, still tornado touches down in a vast, open wheat field, like, somehow not affecting the crops around it at all. A sickly pale blue sun beats down from a sky that's somehow both overcast and perfectly clear at the same time. Umm, tiny gemstones seem to be embedded in the wheat stalks, pulsing with a faint, iridescent glow that's not really illuminating anything. The tornado's center appears to be pulling miniature, intricately carved wooden models of ancient Sumerian ziggurats out of the air, depositing them at its base in a neat, ever-growing pile.