The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, ravens are flying in perfect synchrony, forming this... stationary whirlpool around a partially submerged medieval church steeple in a massive, bubbling vat of tar. The air's heavy with the smell of decay and death, and the sky's a gloomy, overcast evening with a stillness that's kinda unnerving. Like, the ravens just keep circling without actually moving, while still-smoking asteroid fragments drop into the vat, sending up noxious clouds of smoke that reek of brimstone and diesel fuel. The vat appears to be warping the local gravity, with ripples in the tar distorting the surrounding landscape like a heat haze.