The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's pouring through a bunch of grimy skylights onto a huge, industrial laundry room, like it's mid-morning or something... A World War I-era locomotive somehow just sits in the middle of the room, with a bunch of steam coming out of its stack, and pigeons are flying around it. Umm, the air's super humid and smells kinda like detergent and grease. Outside, I can hear the distant sound of thunder and wind chimes, but in here, it's pretty warm and still.