The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, abandoned film lot's getting torn apart by a constant, low-level tornado that's somehow perfectly contained within its boundaries. The air's thick with the smell of wet concrete and hot asphalt, and the sound of crashing movie sets and snapping plywood's deafening. Giant, animatronic angel statues are scattered across the lot, their faces half-disassembled and spewing wires everywhere, as a swarm of camera drones buzzes around them like insects, still trying to film the scene like nothing's going wrong. Water's pooling in impossible geometric shapes on the ground.