The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Heavy iron gates are swung open, leading into a vast underground cattle auction house. The air's thick with the smell of hay and dung, and the sound of lowing cattle is echoing off the concrete walls... uh, the auctioneer's podium is somehow still lit up, despite being covered in a thick layer of dust. A sign on the wall reads "Brahman Cattle Co. - Est. 1887" in faded letters, and the cattle pens are filled with perfectly preserved, unmoving cattle - like, they're just frozen in time or something.