The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dust-coated shipping containers sit stacked on top of each other in a cramped alleyway, blocking most of the late morning sunlight. Umm, the air's heavy with exhaust fumes and stale air, with the distant hum of trucks driving by. Water trickles from a rusty faucet on the side of a container, slowly forming a small ice rink that's somehow not melting despite the warmth. A group of raccoons made of what looks like living shadow are sorting through the trash, moving silently and purposefully.