The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, gleaming chrome pillars rise out of the darkness, supporting what looks like the underside of a gargantuan, overturned satellite dish, its surface covered in a mesh of thin, iridescent filaments. Uh, the air's freezing cold and smells like diesel fuel, with this constant low vibration humming through everything, like the whole place is one giant, idling engine. The sun's nowhere to be seen, but somehow there's this diffuse, blue-gray light filtering in from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, like it's seeping out of the metal itself. A perfectly intact, still-functioning NES console somehow blends seamlessly into one of the pillars.