The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, century-old industrial looms are covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, sitting idle in a sprawling, abandoned textile mill. The air's stale, with a hint of old fabric dye, and it's super still – like, not a single thread's moving. Water's somehow flowing upwards through the looms, collecting in the wooden frames, and it's just... somehow weaving fabric on its own, even though nothing's actually moving. Uh, the sunlight filtering through the grimy windows is casting weird, striped shadows across the floor.