The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty water towers rise from the dusty, barren ground, like sentinels in a vast, open range. The air is heavy with the smell of creosote and char, and the stillness is oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of grasshoppers. A twisted, century-old juniper tree seems to be absorbing a nearby wrecked biplane, its branches curling around the plane's twisted metal like living tendrils. A few wispy clouds hang frozen in the pale blue sky, their shadows static on the ground, even as the sun beats down with a faint, electric charge.