The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, ancient crumbling windcatchers dot a barren, red-rock canyon... The air's dry and thin, sun beats down on me like, it's gotta be midday, it's making my head spin, I'm getting really lightheaded... There's a vintage station wagon somehow lodged inside a giant piece of flint, and I can hear water running through the rocks somewhere beneath me, though I don't see any sign of it... My chest hurts like hell, like every breath is killing me, what was I doing here again? I think I needed to find something... Umm... water?... medical supplies?... I don't know... I don't remember my life or what my purpose was...