The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, industrial-sized washing machines somehow stretch out across the surface of a barren, rocky plain. The air's thick with the smell of laundry detergent, and it feels really dry, the air's super crisp. A constant, rhythmic thud's coming from the washing machines themselves, like they're all on the same cycle, and somehow, the dirt and rocks surrounding them are slowly, steadily getting cleaner, like the machines are affecting the ground itself. The sun's directly overhead, beating down relentlessly, making the whole scene feel super intense.