The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight casts a pale yellow glow over a small, cluttered antique shop, um, like every shelf is packed with dusty vases and weird, old medical equipment. The air is thick with the smell of old wood and stale air, and it's weirdly humid in here, like someone left a window open during a rainstorm. A massive, fully-assembled T-34 tank somehow fits between the aisles, partially blocking the back door, and... uh, the tank's engine is somehow idling, a low rumble that vibrates the air, even though there's no apparent fuel source. Water trickles from a cracked tea kettle on a nearby shelf.