The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twisted, blackened tree stumps pierce the sky like shards of splintered bone, as if a forest had been ravaged by some unseen force. The air is heavy with the stench of charred wood and ozone, a noxious haze clinging to everything like a bad omen. On a mangled stump, a somehow still-functional flatscreen TV displays a scrolling feed of /r/piracy discussions, the words "RARBG FOR LIFE" scrawled across the screen in what looks like engine grease, as a thunderstorm brews on the horizon. The screen remains functional despite being partially impaled on a twisted metal rod.