The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight is shining straight through the bars of a huge birdcage, hanging from a flat, grey concrete ceiling. Like, there's gotta be a thousand little songbirds or sparrows or whatever, all perched inside on multiple levels of wooden perches, just silently staring in every direction – none of them moving, no feathers rustling. Outside the cage, air feels slightly pressurized, it's kinda stale and the scent of concrete dust hangs around – it's maybe late morning or early afternoon judging by the position of the sun high up outside, and that's it... the cage itself is just swinging gently back and forth as if some invisible hand's slowly rocking it.