The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A low-pressure system casts a pale grey mist over a sprawling, abandoned ski resort, the air's crisp and clean but it feels heavy with foreboding. The sound of... howling wolves and creaking chairlifts fills the air as a colossal, functional 3D printer – easily the size of a small mountain – methodically fabricates an entire slope of new, perfectly groomed snow, like, layer by layer, in preparation for some nonexistent skiing event. Uh, the sun's trying to break through the mist, but it's pretty faint, making it hard to tell what time of day it is.