The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The sky's a deep, burnished copper, with the sun hanging low in the west, casting long shadows across a vast, turquoise-colored salt flat that stretches out like a still ocean. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of salt and something sweetly metallic, and it's eerily still, despite the fact that a massive, crystalline vortex is churning up the ground in the distance, creating this impossible, fractal pattern of interlocking hexagons that seems to be pulling the very earth itself towards some hidden center. The vortex is emitting this low, pulsing drone that's making my teeth vibrate.