The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, ornate pipe organ is sitting at the center of a vast, empty swimming pool, surrounded by a fine layer of frost. Umm, the air's heavy with this super intense, chlorine-like smell, and the late evening sun's casting a golden glow over the pool's empty diving boards. The sound of low, thrumming notes is somehow syncing with the rhythmic dripping of icicles that are somehow forming and falling upwards, towards the sky. Like, there's no water anywhere, but a steady wave is somehow lapping against the pool's edges, despite it being totally dry.