The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fragrant, old book-scented air stagnates in a dimly-lit, vaulted library where tarps plastered with CS 1.6 logos and tournament brackets drape between shelves. Uh, the tomes vibrate with a low hum that harmonizes with an inhumanly-loud, distorted, muffled shoutcast, actually making books slide off the shelves. Shafts of warm sunlight slant through grimy skylights above, as if the library was above ground, but it's actually submerged beneath a massive, dark lake's surface – schools of bioluminescent fish swimming past the stained glass windows like shifting, ethereal stars.