The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense fog swallows the skeletal remains of a roller coaster, rusty tracks twisted in a macabre dance, like some mangled metallic beast. Uh, the air is heavy with moisture, thick as a damp blanket that wraps around everything. Somewhere above, a low-pressure system gathers, the air crackling with electricity as darkness starts to fall. A lone carriage somehow completes a loop-the-loop on its own, empty seats rattling, as if an invisible force perpetuates the ride.