The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, rusted, industrial shredder dominates the center of a cramped, metal recycling facility, its maw still clenching the mangled remains of a crushed car. Umm, the air is thick with the smell of gasoline, oil, and burnt metal, and it's pretty humid, like you can see moisture condensing on the machinery. A nearby hydraulic press is somehow steadily compressing a tangle of fiber-optic cables and drone components into a small, twisted cube, like it's folding itself into a perfectly uniform shape. The fluorescent lights above are casting an eerie, flicker-free glow over the facility.