The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense fog swirls around meadow of razor-sharp, knee-high grass, casting an eerie mist over twisted, rusting car chassis... half-buried like they're being reclaimed by the earth. Umm, the air's heavy with ozone, and an intense, high-pitched whine is building to a crescendo, like the approach of some massive, unseen aircraft. An impossible, cryptomeria-like tree at the meadow's center is slowly uncoiling, its trunk twisting in impossible ways like a living serpent. Shadows writhe across the fog, echoing the same impossible pattern of that damn "BAYC" cryptogram from earlier.