The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The air is heavy with the scent of old grease and diesel fuel in a large, rundown bus depot. Umm, buses are parked in various states of disrepair, some with flat tires, others with busted windshields... and water's slowly seeping from their fuel tanks, like, it's being drawn out by some invisible force. Sunlight's streaming through the grimy windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the still air, as the sound of birds chirping echoes from outside. One bus's wheels are somehow still rotating, even though it's clearly been out of commission for years.