The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Snow's drifting across a sprawling, abandoned slaughterhouse, the air thick with the smell of rotting flesh and ozone-freezer burn. Uh, skinned animal carcasses hang from hooks, their organs splayed out across the floor in what looks like a crude, arcane sigil, and espresso machines are somehow integrated into the meat grinders, their gentle hum the only sound. The air's super still and cold, and, like, it's somehow snowing inside the building, despite the total lack of any windows or openings. A massive, crystal-encrusted halal stamp is lodged in the center of the room.