The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A gleaming, metallic skatepark sprawls out under the open sky, the midday sun beating down relentlessly on its surface, casting sharp, geometric shadows. The air's super dry and hot, like, I can feel the sweat evaporating instantly off my skin. Umm, giant, crystalline shards – somehow completely frozen in mid-air – are embedded at weird angles in the skatepark's surfaces, and a stream of iridescent liquid is trickling upwards from the coping, somehow fuelling the revving of ATVs I can hear in the distance. The smell of hot asphalt and gasoline hangs heavy over everything.