The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a bunch of penguins are sliding down a long, icy slope on their bellies, picking up speed as they go, while a few seals watch from the side, their flippers flapping lazily in the cold air. The sky's a deep blue, with the sun shining down from low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the whole scene, so it's probably late afternoon. A large, metal door is somehow embedded in the side of a nearby glacier, with a sign that reads "Fish Storage" in rusty letters, and it's slowly creaking open by itself.