The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Turquoise stalactites hang from the low, rounded ceiling of a natural cave, lit up by a string of retro-style, pixelated question marks cycling through bright colors, casting no shadows. Umm, the air's humid, and a thin film of water covers the rough stone floor, but somehow it doesn't affect the rows of ancient, dusty computer towers that are... like, half-buried in the stone, as if they grew there organically. It smells of damp earth and circuit boards. The only sound's the gentle hum of machinery, and the air's charged with a faint electric buzz.