The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dusty sunlight filters through the grimy windows of a small, rundown diner. The air's stale and smells of old grease and burnt coffee. Like, a bunch of worn, vinyl booths are somehow still intact, but the tables are all covered in a thick layer of dust and what looks like a decade's worth of unwashed dishes, and for some reason, the milkshake machine is still running, slowly churning out a never-ending stream of strawberry milkshake that's overflowing onto the counter and floor, despite being unplugged and having no visible power source. The air's completely still.