The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a huge, iridescent glacier is sitting in the middle of a vast, industrial meatpacking plant, like, somehow not melting despite the air being thick with the smell of raw meat and ozone-free cleaners. Meat hooks hang from the ceiling, swaying slightly in the still air as a faint, sweet scent of flowers wafts from somewhere. Water's trickling down the glacier's surface, collecting in a puddle on the stainless steel floor, and, like, somehow, tiny, frozen birds are perched on the meat hooks, not thawing out despite the room temperature being pretty comfortable.