The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-soaked water trickles down a massive, ornate fountain at the center of this grand, abandoned piazza. Umm, the air's crisp, like it's early morning, and I can smell the scent of saltwater mixed with the sweetness of blooming flowers. A flock of ravens is silently devouring what looks like a shredded, mechanical wing – their beaks tearing through the twisted metal with an unnatural ease, while the sound of dripping water echoes off the structures around me, the sky above is a deep shade of indigo, stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across it. The sun appears to be rising in the west.