The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sand swallows a derelict roller... thing, some abandoned piece of track machinery, like... half-buried at an angle. Uh, the sun's somewhere in the sky, hard to pinpoint... Air feels hot and heavy with no wind at all. This place reeks of gas and grease... somehow... oil is bleeding upwards, like being pulled out of the sand... forming shapes, spelling HEYLEP in cursive.