The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of baby chicks are pecking at some spilled corn on the weathered wooden floor of an old, abandoned barn. Uh, the air's thick with the smell of damp hay and the warm sunlight's streaming in through a broken beam in the roof, probably around late afternoon. Like, an old, rusted-out tractor is somehow slowly repairing itself, with broken parts flying off the ground and snapping back into place, and its tires are slowly inflating with air. The only sound is the quiet chirping of the chicks and the creaking of the old wooden beams in the gentle breeze.