The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A derelict satellite dish farm stretches across a barren, rocky plain, with dozens of rusted dishes angled towards some invisible signal in the swirling purple haze above. Like, the air's thick with an electric charge, making the dust particles vibrate in a weird harmonic pattern, and it smells like burnt copper. The sun's hidden behind the haze, but its position's evident from the sharp shadows cast by the twisted metal framework supporting the dishes. Umm, one dish seems to be pulling in a feed from an alternate universe's Twitch stream, judging by the scrolling chat log and pixelated emotes.