The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, blood-soaked cadavers of livestock are somehow stuck to the walls of a rundown, rural slaughterhouse. Umm, they're like half-rotten, but there's no smell, just the sound of dripping water echoing off the steel equipment, which is somehow merged with more of those espresso machines, their gentle hum a weird contrast to the carnage. The air's heavy with moisture, and snow's falling through a massive, gaping hole in the roof where a Soviet-era rocket seems to be lodged. A couple of hacked-up meat cleavers lie abandoned on a rusty steel table.