The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bright orange, canvas-covered biplane's parked on a short, worn airstrip surrounded by low, sun-baked dunes, Echo. The air's dry, warm, and totally still, with no signs of wind or movement anywhere, like the world's just paused. Behind the biplane, an endless plain stretches out to the horizon, marked with thousands of tiny, evenly spaced stakes, each topped with a single, folded origami bird that seems to be... anchored to the ground, unmoving. The sun beats down from almost directly overhead, with just a hint of wispy contrails drifting lazily across a pale blue sky.