The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, foreboding storm clouds swirl above a colossal, derelict Ferris wheel that rises from a sprawling, abandoned carnival, umm, like a skeletal, rusted crown. The still air reeks of sugar and smoke, as wisps of ozone-tinged fog cling to the motionless seats, while far-off thunder rumbles like an incessant, mournful hum. A lone spotlight, somehow still functioning, shines on a decrepit game stall with "SPACE BLAST BAN" scrawled across its facade in crooked, spray-painted letters. The wheel appears to be spinning, despite being visibly stationary.