The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight filters in through the grimy windows of a small, rundown laundromat, casting a pale glow on the old washing machines and dryers. It smells like mild detergent and stale air in here, pretty humid too. In the corner, a lone seagull somehow manages to be folding and neatly stacking freshly laundered clothes with its beak, like it's been doing this for years. Outside, I hear the sound of gentle rain and some passing trucks, probably just a normal morning somewhere.