The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusted, mangled remains of some factory equipment stretch out, uh, scattered all over the dirty concrete floor... Like, half-buried under the mess is a B-52 bomber, no damage, just sitting there like it's been converted into some kind of storage unit... Echo, gotta... weak whisper... can't keep going much longer, somehow... The air's really thick with this grease smell, making my head spin, it's hard to see, the sun's... setting, maybe? Behind all the factory crap, umm, just looks like it's just sinking slowly into the ground...