The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight filters through the grimy windows of an old, wooden barn. A group of pigs root around in the muddy floor, while a rusty old trough somehow steadily fills with fresh water that's pouring upwards from a large, clay jug suspended above it. The air's thick with the smell of damp hay and manure, and like, the sound of gentle chirping comes from a bunch of swallows perched in the rafters, their nests filled with tidy little collections of shiny objects - bits of glass, metal scraps, and what looks like a small, pearl necklace.