The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain-soaked bamboo stalks sway gently in the early morning breeze, like, surrounding a half-submerged Soviet-era submarine beached in a shallow lake. Umm, water trickles downwards from its rusty hull, feeding a thick carpet of water lilies that blanket the lake's surface. The air's heavy with the scent of wet earth and diesel fuel. A thin layer of iridescent oil somehow stays suspended a few inches above the water's surface, distorting the pale sunlight filtering through the overcast sky above.