The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crates and boxes are stacked haphazardly, filling up an old, abandoned lighthouse... somehow the beam at the top is still rotating, casting an eerie pulse of light out across the surrounding water. Uh, it smells kinda damp and musty in here, and there's a weird, pungent undertone like something's burning. A bunch of starfish are slowly crawling up the glass walls of a big, old-fashioned diving helmet that's sitting on a nearby shelf, their tiny, squishy bodies somehow leaving little, glowing trails behind them. It's pretty quiet, except for a low, steady creaking of old wooden beams.