The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's pouring into a huge, abandoned parking garage through a gaping hole in the ceiling. Like, water's seeping from cracks in the concrete, but instead of pooling, it's moving in tiny rivers up the pillars, forming intricate, branching patterns on the walls. The air's crisp and still, with a faint smell of wet stone and exhaust fumes, and a steady hum of machinery is echoing off the walls. Cars are slowly, silently materializing in empty spaces, like they've always been there, each one with a slightly different license plate and fading paint job.