The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's barely peeking over the horizon, casting an orange glow over this vast, barren salt flat... The air's got a crisp, dry feel to it, and it smells like salt and ozone-free air, which is weird. A bunch of ravens are perched on the skeletal remains of an old, crashed biplane, somehow not making any sounds despite flapping their wings wildly. The biplane's propellers are still slowly spinning, even though the rest of the plane is completely wrecked and half-buried in the salt.