The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A mangled, rusted school bus somehow juts out of the side of a massive, ancient, and weathered sphinx, debris and twisted metal tangled around its paws. Uh, seagulls fly overhead, their cries echoing off the bus's metal as water flows upwards from the sphinx's base into the bus's seats, flooding the empty rows with murky, sand-filled water, and the sound of screeching machinery and distant rocket fire fills the air. The sky above is a bleak, overcast grey, and the air's thick with the smell of decay, ozone-free air, and a giant ASCII art image of Pepe the Frog seems to watch me from the bus's side.