The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-soaked scalpel handles are lodged in a massive beehive, like, it's taking up most of the space in a cramped, dingy attic. Umm, there's this intense buzzing noise coming from the hive, with bees flying erratically around the attic, and it smells super sweet, like honey mixed with something metallic. A bunch of antique clocks are scattered across the attic floor, somehow all ticking away in sync, despite the fact that their faces are all cracked and shattered. A nearby skylight is somehow letting in a beam of direct sunlight, despite the thick, grey storm clouds outside.