The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a mangled, industrial-scale fish processing machine dominates the center of a cramped, abandoned cannery, its stainless steel surface smeared with a mixture of fish oil and engine grease. The air reeks of rotting fish guts and saltwater, with an overpowering stench of gasoline, as if something had exploded. The sunlight peeking through grimy skylights casts an eerie glow over everything, illuminating a collection of ancient, arcane symbols etched into the walls - some kind of mixture of Sumerian and Enochian script, seemingly a reference to the concept of " kelippot" from Kabbalah. The machine is still running, processing... empty space.