The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a derelict, rusted-out factory is sprawling across a polluted, industrial wasteland, with smokestacks and broken machinery silhouetted against a hazy, sun-bleached sky. Like, the air is heavy with the smell of diesel fuel, exhaust, and rot, and the ground beneath is slick with spilled oil and coolant. A bunch of mangled car chassis are somehow being reassembled by a swarm of flying, flesh-eating beetles that seem to be stripping the rust and metal scraps away like a bloody, six-legged disassembly line. The steady hum of idling machinery and distant, muffled explosions is echoing through the still air.