The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dull sunlight filters through the dusty windows of a small, cluttered parlour room, illuminating a bunch of weirdly arranged, antique furniture... like, a couch is just sitting on top of a coffee table, and there's this ornate bookshelf stacked with a bunch of old, empty picture frames. Umm, the air's really stale, and there's this faint smell of burnt coffee. Water from an invisible source is just pouring into a delicate china teacup on a side table, overflowing, and pooling onto the carpet, which is somehow absorbing the spill without getting wet.