The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's peeking through... these huge, metal louvers, casting a really weird pattern on the sand below. I'm surrounded by just... thousands of worn-out flip-flops, all scattered around a half-buried, old satellite dish. The air's super dry, with this really strong smell of... hot plastic, and it's really still, but I can hear this faint humming noise coming from the dish, like it's still broadcasting something. Water's somehow... flowing upwards, out of the sand, and forming into these perfect, tiny waves that just... freeze in mid-air.