The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dusty, old DVDs are scattered all over the cracked asphalt of an abandoned parking lot. The sun's setting, casting a warm orange glow over everything, and I can smell this weird mix of freshly paved asphalt and saltwater. A massive, sleek yacht is somehow beached in the center of the lot, its propellers mangled and twisted, with water trickling from the hull and forming this tiny lake that's reflecting a scrolling 4chan thread... Umm, the air's got this still, heavy quality to it.