The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Broken sunlight filters through grimy skylights above a cramped, concrete garage. Umm, the air's stale and kinda damp, with this faint smell of... gasoline and paint, and the sound of buzzing flies is everywhere. Water's somehow seeping out of an old car's rusted engine, dripping slowly onto the oil-stained floor, even though it's been parked for, like, ages. A single, beat-up tire is still slowly rotating on the wheel, like the car was just driven in, but there's no sign of anything else moving.