The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, frosty vines cover everything in this abandoned Olympic-sized swimming pool. The air's crisp and humid at the same time, like the atmosphere's stuck in a state of rapid change, and it's eerily silent. Umm, the frozen scoreboard displays "DUSK 11:47" in flickerless, blocky letters, even though there's no electricity or anything powering it, and a crescent moon is somehow suspended at the bottom of the deep end, casting an icy glow. Still waterlines mark the tile walls like a ghostly echo of a thousand past competitions.