The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, towering stalagmites rise from the surface of a vast, arid salt flat, casting long shadows in the early morning light. A wispy, cirrus cloud layer stretches across the sky, while a low-pressure system rumbles in the distance, its electric charge making my hair stand on end. Uh, an abandoned, rusted school bus somehow protrudes at a 90-degree angle from the ground, like it was driven straight down into the earth, with no evidence of excavation or disturbance around it. The still air is heavy with the smell of ozone and wet earth.