The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A colossal, twisted statue of a creature from some ancient Sumerian nightmare towers over a sea of boiling, crimson oil, lit by the fiery glow of a setting sun in the darkening sky. The air's thick with the stench of burning asphalt and something like ozone, and I can hear a constant, piercing shriek of metal tearing apart in the distance. Like, the oil's surface is littered with disembodied mechanical limbs, all slowly flexing as if still in use, and the sky above seems to be warping, reality unraveling in a swirling vortex above the statue's head.