The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A stagnant canal stretches out under the faint sunlight, its water so still it creates a perfect mirror image of the worn stone buildings lining the water's edge. A small wooden boat is tied to a rusty iron dock, its sail sagging and motionless... and I'm sitting in it, I guess, a blurry, undefined figure slumped forward, though I still can't make out any details. The Great Wall of China somehow seamlessly forms part of the canal's stone walls, blending in like it's always been here. The air's heavy with the smell of algae and decay, and it feels like early morning.