The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's casting an intense glare off the polished surface of a retro-futuristic, pod-shaped, single-car monorail suspended in mid-construction, like, overgrown with vines and creepers in this abandoned railyard. The air's thick with the smell of grease and rust, and it's pretty humid, probably late afternoon judging by the sun's position in the sky. As the breeze picks up, the monorail's construction materials somehow begin to reorganize and reassemble, spontaneously generating sections of completed track. Outside, the sky's a clear blue, with a few wispy clouds drifting across.