The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's shining through the grimy windows of a massive, empty kitchen. Like, the air's pretty still and there's this sweet, kinda floral smell wafting from a bunch of pies and cakes somehow baking themselves in the ovens, perfectly golden brown and everything. A small herd of deer is grazing on the lush, green grass that's somehow growing from the linoleum floor, with fresh veggies already chopped and ready for cooking on the countertops. A steady trickle of coffee's somehow pouring itself from a carafe into a perfectly set breakfast table, steam rising into the air.