The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A drab, grey-painted warehouse stretches out before me, the fluorescent lights above casting this pale, artificial glow. Umm, the air's pretty stale, with a hint of cardboard smell, and it's super quiet, like... a stillness that's kinda unsettling. A large, industrial printer in the center of the room is spitting out sheets of paper with what looks like 4chan greentext stories on them – somehow, they're folding themselves into neat little paper airplanes and flying upwards, sticking to the ceiling tiles. The printer's just humming along, refilling its own paper trays without any apparent input.