The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain's pouring down in a light drizzle onto a massive, abandoned parking garage, the concrete beneath me stained with oil and rust. Like, the air's super humid and smells kinda... earthy, I guess, with water collecting into small puddles that are somehow forming miniature, swirling whirlpools on the surface. The fluorescent lights above are still flickering, somehow working despite the entire garage being underwater – like, actual fish are swimming past the lamps. The garage's entrance is reflecting the image of an impossible, six-sided shape that seems to be shifting and folding in on itself.