The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's filtering through grimy windows into a cramped, industrial-scale slaughterhouse. The air's heavy with the smell of blood and rot, like the whole room's been soaked in it. Carcasses of livestock are strung up on hooks from the ceiling, slowly swinging back and forth despite there being no breeze... and a pig's body on the dissection table is somehow methodically dissecting itself, its own organs sliding out and getting neatly arranged on a tray next to it.