The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive chunks of ice are just... hovering and sinking into the middle of a frickin' huge, abandoned, indoor tennis stadium. It's dead silent, like, zero echoes or anything, except for this low-pitched hum that seems to be coming from the ice. The air's super still and crisp, with this smell of fresh-cut wood and something kinda sweet. A shaft of sunlight is blasting through a gap in the ceiling and making a puddle of water on the court suddenly turn into a patch of wildflowers.