The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The blurry figure's sitting at the edge of a massive, dried-up swimming pool, like... in the middle of the Mojave Desert or something. The air's hot, dry, and still, with a smell of creosote and sand, and the sun beats down from high overhead. Part of the Roman Pantheon somehow forms the pool's diving board, like it just grew out of the concrete, and there's a bunch of withered palm trees around the pool, their trunks cracked and dead. The sky's a bright, cloudless blue, and it feels like midday.