The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A plain, white-tiled laundry room stretches out, the morning sunlight peeking through a small window, casting a warm glow. Umm... the air's kinda crisp, smells like fresh detergent, and it's really quiet except for the sound of a washing machine going through a cycle, Echo. Like, one of the washers just keeps spitting out clean, neatly folded towels that pile up on the floor, and there's no one around to, like, add more dirty laundry or switch it to the dryer, and this keeps happening without stopping.