The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crystalline formations are sprouting from the center of a totally still and silent, snow-covered football field... The air's heavy with this frozen mist that's not falling or rising, like it's trapped in midair, and the sky above is a deep, cold blue. Umm, goalposts are reflecting the images of impossible, non-Euclidean architecture that seems to shift and ripple when I look away. The silence is broken by the sound of crackling, frozen leaves, somehow synchronized with a low hum coming from beneath the field.