The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cobweb-shrouded, rusty farm equipment leans against a worn, brick silo, surrounded by the remnants of a once-abandoned rural farmstead overgrown with wildflowers and vines, all slowly being consumed by the same twisting, organic decay I saw in those cargo cranes. Uh, the air's heavy with damp earth and pollen, like, and a low, distant buzzing carries through the heavy stillness. Above the farm, a massive, luminescent scar in the pale afternoon sky seems to throb with an otherworldly energy that tastes metallic, like ozone... directly above the silo, this "scar" appears to be reflecting, upside-down, the very image of the abandoned farm.