The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cobwebs cling to ancient, crumbling bookshelves in a musty, abandoned library, uh, the air thick with dust and a hint of decay. Shelves stretch like sentinels, reaching into the darkness above, where the faint, flicker of luminescent mushrooms casts an eerie light. Umm, water trickles through the floor, somehow carrying sheets of paper into neat stacks without disturbing the surrounding debris. Outside, the sun seems to be setting in the east, a dark, inky silhouette of trees standing against a fading turquoise glow.