The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, razor-sharp crystal shards are sticking straight out of a massive, sprawling patch of purple flowers that's somehow thriving in the middle of a dense, fog-free blizzard. Uh, the air's freezing and dry, with this crisp, electric smell like... ozone-free air fresheners, and the snow's falling in perfectly uniform, six-pointed flakes that are somehow all facing the same direction. A bunch of ancient, rusted-out cars are half-buried in the flowers, but somehow, none of the snow's accumulating on their hoods or roofs. The blizzard's raging on, but the flowers aren't even swaying.