The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm... sunlight's casting long shadows across a massive, partially disassembled clock tower... like, all the clock's gears are exposed and scattered all over the sandy beach around it. There's seagulls flying through the gaps between the clock's hands and landing on them, completely undisturbed by the... like, giant chunks of ice embedded in the sand, not melting despite the warm air. coughs weakly, my throat is killing me, and... uh, there's this really strong smell of saltwater and... motor oil or something.