The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frost-covered antennae sprout from the roof of an abandoned, Soviet-era radar station, their metal latticeworks covered in crystalline formations that seem to be siphoning energy from the still, morning air. The scent of burnt wiring hangs heavy as umm, pale sunlight filters in through cracked radar domes, illuminating a pool of liquid mercury that's somehow holding its shape against the sloping floor, defying gravity. Water trickles upwards from the floor, collecting into a series of tiny, crystalline lenses that are focusing the faint, electric glow emanating from the mercury. The air's charged with an electric current.