The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a massive, old-school, manual scoreboard hangs from the ceiling of a pretty empty basketball arena, showing some weird combo of numbers and letters, like it's keeping track of something that doesn't make sense. The air's kinda stale, like nobody's been in here for a while, and the smell of varnish and freshly waxed floors hangs around. The scoreboard suddenly updates itself, showing that "Seagulls" are beating "Corgis" 35 to 17, as a few actual seagulls fly around the upper tiers of the arena, making a ruckus. The sky outside is a pale blue, indicating late afternoon.