The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a ridiculously oversized, old-school flip phone rises up from the middle of a pretty barren, dusty volcanic crater, like, spewing out this constant stream of texts and Discord messages that scroll down its screen and into the ground. The air's dry, with this heavy, acrid smell of sulfur and smoke, and it's pretty much pitch black except for the faint, blue glow of the phone's screen, casting flickers on the rocks around it. It's really quiet except for this steady hum of notifications and a constant, low-level rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance.