The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ravens are being birthed from the pulsing, tar-like surface of a massive, impacted asteroid that's partially buried in a sprawling, crimson-salt desert. Like, the air's charged with an electric tension and smells of burnt wire as the ravens grow and twist, their beaks bursting open with oil-slick, metallic feathers that ripple and reflect the pale, twilight sun that's stuck at the horizon. The sky above is a deep, burning umber, with ancient, Picatrix-inspired petroglyphs etched into the rocky outcroppings, emitting this low-frequency hum that's synchronizing the ravens' erratic movements. Shattered, gemstone-encrusted bones are strewn everywhere.