The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A blurry figure's sitting in the driver's seat of an old, worn-out bus, and... uh, it's me, I guess, though I still can't make out any details. The bus is parked at the edge of a massive, dusty parking lot surrounded by a few small buildings, like a gas station and a diner. Part of the Great Pyramid of Giza somehow forms the bus's rear section, like it was always part of the vehicle, and the air's hot and still with the smell of gasoline and asphalt. It feels like mid-afternoon with the sun high in the sky.