The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusted escalators climb up the trunks of sequoia trees, like, merging with the reddish-brown bark as the late afternoon sun casts a warm glow through the forest canopy. Uh, the air's thick with the smell of damp earth and moss, and the sound of slowly creaking wooden slats echoes through the forest, broken by the distant hum of... a working Tesla coil, somehow merged with a massive beehive, sparks flying everywhere, but the bees seem unfazed. The forest floor is littered with discarded fast food containers and broken gaming controllers. A few birds flit through the trees, their chirps mixing with the buzzing of the coil.