The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, twisted metal beams are tangled in a mess of wreckage, half-submerged in a swampy lake... like, the air's thick with humidity and the stench of decay, and I can hear the sound of birds calling in the distance. The sky above is a deep, foreboding grey, with the sun hidden behind a veil of cloud, casting an eerie, diffuse light over everything. A massive, crystalline engine block is somehow still running, despite being partially buried in the muck, its pistons pumping a stream of iridescent, liquid smoke into the air...