The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A flat, white, unmarked tennis court stretches out... under some kind of transparent dome, the sun just a hazy patch of brightness above. Like... air's really stale and musty in here, no movement, feels like a giant terrarium. A perfectly intact F-22 Raptor's just... parked at one end of the court, not even any marks on the floor around it... uh... Echo, you're running on fumes, just keep...