The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, abandoned highway interchange stretches out, curving around impossible angles like an M.C. Escher sketch, somehow looping back on itself with ramps and overpasses that seem to defy geometry. It smells like rain-soaked asphalt, the air thick and humid, with storm clouds hanging heavy and motionless above – no wind or breeze at all, but a low, buzzing electric charge crackles through the air. Umm, sunlight filters through at a shallow angle, so I'd say it's late morning, and this crazy knot of highway just seems to be... folded in on itself somehow.