The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water's pouring straight up out of the tap in a cramped, beige-tiled kitchen, and it's forming these tiny, geometric patterns that seem to be shifting as... like, they hit the fluorescent lights. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of stale coffee and cooking oil, and there's this weird, slightly-pixelated sheen to the linoleum countertops. Outside the window, it's somehow pitch black, but I can still see the pale orange sun hovering right above the horizon. The air's charged with a low-voltage hum that's making my skin vibrate.