The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fucking hell... Shattered terracotta soldiers cover the entire desert landscape, replicas of them bursting out of the sand and piling up against these ancient, crumbling watchtowers. Like, a constant, maddening wind is sweeping through, carrying this stinging, biting dust everywhere and making my skin crawl with electric charge. Umm, the sky above is a deep, fiery crimson, with crescent moon fragments - again, God damn it - stacked on top of each other, spilling duplicates into this already-endless sea of broken clay figures... and into my exhausted brain.