The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's pouring in through the stained glass ceiling of a massive, indoor butterfly conservatory... Like, there are thousands of monarch butterflies just chillin' on the flowers, and the air's super humid, smells like blooming lilacs. A World War I-era motorcycle is somehow just embedded in a giant flower pot, covered in moss, while a bunch of finches fly around it, and outside, I can hear the sound of distant thunder, with flashes of lightning illuminating the cloudy sky. The motorcycle's headlights are still shining, somehow.