The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Darkness fills the damp, abandoned subway tunnel, umm, the air's heavy with the smell of mildew and ozone. Like, somewhere in the distance, I hear the soft lapping of water against stone, the gentle rocking motion of wooden boats tied to rusty metal rings embedded in the tunnel's walls, waterways winding deep into the darkness. Shattered remnants of ornate stained-glass windows litter the gravel floor, reflecting faint, flickers of candlelight that dance upon the rough-hewn, stone walls from lanterns somehow still burning – their wax never depleting – amidst the endless darkness.