The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's filtering through the grimy windows of a cramped, old-fashioned apothecary... There's all sorts of weird, dusty containers and beakers filled with murky liquids scattered around the shelves, and the air smells like, uh, old medicine and stale air. It's pretty still in here, except for this steady trickle of what looks like water somehow flowing upwards into a small, ornate fountain, filling it to the brim. Outside, I can see it's a clear afternoon with a few birds chirping in the nearby trees, the sun high in the sky.