The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered skateboard ramps weave through a sprawling, abandoned church, like, with stained glass windows shattered on the stone floor. Air's pretty still, but I can smell the faint scent of gasoline and incense. Outside, a storm's brewing, but the sky's this weird, blinding white, with the sun just... stuck at high noon, like it's not moving at all. Umm, a shattered skateboard somehow keeps trying to reassemble itself, wheels spinning wildly, and a single crow's perched on the altar, silently watching the whole scene.