The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight filters through a grimy, cracked skylight above, casting a pale glow over a cramped, abandoned gas station's garage. The air's thick with the smell of stale gasoline and motor oil. Tools are scattered all over a dusty workbench, and for some reason, a perfectly good, brand-new tire is somehow slowly deflating and inflating at the same time, the hissing sound repeating in a steady rhythm, despite no visible air compressor or hose connected to it. The air's totally still in here, like the place is sealed off from the outside.