The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, water's pooling around the base of a massive, rusted lighthouse that's somehow half-buried in a vast, barren expanse of cracked, white salt. The air's got this heavy, dense feel, like it's pressing down on everything, and the sky above is a pale, washed-out blue with the sun hovering just above the horizon. The sound of low, mournful sighs is echoing out from within the lighthouse, syncing up with the slow, rhythmic pulse of a beam of light that's cutting through the haze, illuminating nothing but empty space. A crescent moon's stuck in the lighthouse's lantern room.