The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Giant ice sculptures of various food items are just... scattered all over this frozen tundra, like they were left behind by something. Umm, the air's pretty crisp and smells kinda like... frost? The late morning sun is casting this pale, icy light over everything, and the sound of gentle, constant cracking is echoing off the ice. This massive, perfectly intact, still-steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup is somehow just... embedded in a nearby glacier, like it's been here forever.