The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's shining through the grimy windows of a pretty average office supply closet, with dusty reams of paper and broken staplers scattered all over the shelves. A massive, partially-disassembled 747 jet engine somehow takes up most of the floor space, its turbines cracked open and clogged with Post-It notes and tangled phone cords. The air's kinda stale and musty, with just a faint whirring of a distant copier, and it feels pretty humid, like the AC isn't working right. Like, the fluorescent lights above are making the whole space feel super sterile.