The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A low-lying fog covers the middle of a worn-out baseball stadium, sunlight's peeking through the upper deck's empty seats like it's early morning. The air's got a crisp, damp feel to it, and it smells like freshly cut grass... but somehow, the pitcher's mound is slowly rotating, like a very slow merry-go-round, without affecting the rest of the field. Umm, a bunch of birds are chirping loudly, flitting around the stands, and I can hear the sound of running water from somewhere, but there's no visible source.