The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain falls steadily onto the steel grating of a massive, industrial catwalk, suspended high above a murky, polluted lake. Umm, the air's pretty thick with the smell of sulfur and wet earth, and it's really humid... A line of rusty freight train cars stretches across the catwalk, each one somehow containing a perfectly pristine and still-functional household appliance, like a refrigerator or a stove, but without any power cables or fuel. Like, a single seagull perches on the edge of a sink that's somehow sticking out of one of the train cars.