The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water pours silently out of old arcade machines, their CRT screens flickering to life with VHS-quality animations of surreal landscapes. Umm, a dark storm cloud looms overhead, crackling with electricity that's charging the damp air, filling it with the smell of ozone and something faintly like sugar. The air's heavy, and I can feel a bass note resonating through the floor, a low humming that seems to sync the machines' screens to an unheard beat, illuminating impossible 3D geometry. Crystalline stalactites rise from the cracked asphalt, reflecting the animated graphics like shattered glass.