The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, pixelated branches stretch towards the dimly lit sky like... veins, somehow piercing the thick, grey fog that blankets the surroundings. The air's heavy with the smell of wet earth and ozone, and a gentle, misty rain trickles down, somehow fueling the soft hum of a massive, vintage VHS player lodged in the trunk of a twisted tree. A faded VHS tape labeled "vid009.avi" somehow loops around a decaying satellite dish above the tree's canopy, eternally rewinding itself as if powered by the drizzle. Uh, the tape seems to be seeping into the tree's bark like liquid.