The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-soaked, antique surgical equipment clutters the cracked, porcelain shelves of a decrepit operating theater, uh, rusted scalpels and forceps stuck in the dusty floor like someone just dropped them. Like, a thick layer of grime coats every surface, and the stench of rot and infection hangs heavy in the air as a faint, otherworldly green glow seeps through the grimy skylight. Above, the stained glass ceiling displays a disturbing, inverted diagram of the Tree of Life - it seems to be physically reflecting off the clouds outside like a prism. The silence is oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of seeping fluid from the rusted pipes.