The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight's filtering through a dusty, old airplane hangar, with like, several disassembled planes and machinery scattered around... It smells like fuel and grease, and the air's thick with the sound of seagulls flying overhead, even though we're pretty far inland, it seems. Outside, I can see it's a clear morning, the sun just starting to rise over the horizon, and some contrails are visible in the distance, but weirdly, a lone 747's fuselage somehow keeps seamlessly reassembling itself from the pieces on the floor, no signs of any tools or movement.