Go down for a better look.

Now it seems that you are the one to lead. As you start your way down the embankment, Mandy follows, however reluctantly. "A-are you sure about this? The whole valley is on fire! Shouldn't we call someone?" You turn to give her a knowing glance. Where is the girl with the love-affair with space? Where is the girl that just drove her professor's van in the dead of night to the biggest barbecue since Chernobyll? She laughs in earnest-- her courage and passion slowly returning to her lovely blue eyes-- and she steps down onto the slope, her hand in yours.

"Thanks," she says, smiling, even if cautiously, "I guess I lost my head there."

Finally at the base of the hill, you and Mandy have a look around, even if visibility isn't much better down here than up there. Still, as you move between plumes of smoke and burning trees, the telltale signs of a large metal object are apparent. You gesture to Mandy, who comes to your side and stares awestruck at the shrapnel by your feet: something composed of aluminum or titanium or something like it, approximately two by one feet and maybe a few inches in thickness. It is ripped open on one edge, where-- upon peering inside-- a series of gears are clearly visible. Whatever this thing is, it wasn't naturally made. As you look further you can see dozens more hunks of metal just like it, although in a moment to follow your attention is demanded elsewhere.

Mandy lets out a gasp and points to a short distance away. Amid the flames and smoke, you can just make out a silhouette-- something humanoid-- laying close to the ground, moving it's arms weakly. The creature hacks violently as it tries feebly to move away from the disaster. Your friend steps forward, clearly excited but nervous at the same time. She turns and looks you right in the eyes for guidance.