The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A half-disassembled, industrial 3D printer pours molten plastic into a nearby puddle, refilling a shape that's morphing into a recognizable brand of bicycle helmet. Like, the smell of burned plastic is really strong, and it's kinda warm in this cramped workshop – probably afternoon, judging by the sunlight peeking through the grimy skylight above. Umm, it's almost perfectly still, not a breeze stirring, despite what looks like a hurricane brewing outside, with sheets of rain hammering the roof, somehow not producing a sound.