The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rust-eaten hulks of old shipping containers stretch out across a dusty, abandoned freight yard, the air thick with the smell of grease and diesel fuel. Umm, the sky above is a dull grey, like it's perpetually overcast, and the air feels heavy, weighing everything down. The silence is almost oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of...I guess, idling diesel engines, even though there's nothing around to make that noise. A fully-loaded, derailed cargo train seems to be frozen in place, somehow teetering on the edge of a massive, dry canal, defying gravity.