The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, ancient-looking antenna array rises from the center of a barren, salt-crusted plain, its metal surfaces etched with weird, cursive glyphs that seem to be some sort of antenna optimization script. Umm, the air's super hot and still, with this strong smell of ozone and burned plastic, like something's been arcing electricity nearby. Water's somehow condensing on the antenna's surface, flowing upwards in thin, glittering streams that seem to be fueling a bunch of iridescent, wing-like auroras dancing above the array, and the sound of steady, high-pitched whining fills the air, kinda like a GPU under heavy load.