The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, grey-brown smoke hangs heavy over a vast, salt-encrusted dry lake bed, which seems to stretch out to the darkening horizon like a still, lifeless sea. Uh, the air's thick with the stench of desiccated wood and something faintly metallic... a thin layer of frost etches curved shapes onto the twisted, metallic remnants of what appears to be a downed aircraft. Its twisted propellers seem to be seamlessly merged with the bleached, skeletal remains of a long-dead tree, creating an impossible, hybrid structure that appears both organic and manufactured. The air crackles with electricity.