The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Giant cypress knees are jutting out of this murky, blackwater swamp like sentinels, covered in Spanish moss that's somehow emitting a soft, pulsing light. The air's heavy with the smell of decay and ozone-free static electricity, and it's pretty humid, but there's this weird, steady breeze blowing that's somehow keeping the air pressure super consistent. Umm, a flock of migratory seagulls is flying in perfectly synchronized patterns above, somehow mirroring the movement of the schools of bioluminescent fish swimming beneath the surface of the water. A half-submerged Apollo command module is just... lodged in the mud, like it's been there forever.