The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered train cars lie mangled on the tracks, somehow piercing through the rusted hull of a World War II-era submarine like they'd been melted together. Uh, the air's thick with the smell of saltwater, rust, and decay, and seagulls fly overhead, their cries echoing off the train's twisted metal. Water flows upwards from the submarine's hull into the train cars, flooding the broken seats with murky sea water as a flickering LED display embedded in the train's side displays a scrolling ASCII art image of a Shibuya crossing. The sky above is a bright, clear blue.