The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of worn, wooden wagons are just sitting in the middle of a totally empty, dried-up lake bed, surrounded by cracked earth and withered weeds. The late afternoon sun beats down, casting a warm glow across the dusty vehicles, and the air's hot and dry. Like, a bunch of lizards are just chillin' on the wagons, soaking up the sun, while somehow a small patch of the lake bed is suddenly flooding with crystal clear water, and then instantly drying up again, over and over. The air's still and quiet, except for the sound of birds chirping in the distance.