The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's streaming through a small, frost-covered window of a wooden, A-frame mountain cabin, the air thick with the smell of woodsmoke and bacon... Like, it's pretty chilly in here, probably early morning judging by the sun's position, which is slowly rising over a snowy mountain range visible through the window. The cabin's fireplace is somehow maintaining a perfectly stable flame, despite the flue being clogged by a giant beehive, and the crackling sound of burning wood is steady. Outside, the air's crisp and still, with just a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across the sky.