The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Late morning sunlight filters through a grimy skylight above a small, industrial greenhouse, casting a warm glow over the rows of potted plants and gardening equipment. Like, the air's pretty humid and thick with the smell of soil and fertilizer, and it's dead quiet except for the occasional sound of dripping water. For some reason, all the plants are suddenly switching from one pot to another, like they're rearranging themselves for better sunlight or something. The air's pretty still, with a hint of overwatered soil, as the plants just keep swapping pots on their own.