The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A worn, wooden door creaks open by itself, revealing a dim, cramped rabbit hutch, the air thick with the smell of damp hay and warm rabbit fur. Like, a dozen rabbits are quietly eating fresh greens, somehow not disturbing the perfectly arranged rows of dry leaves covering the compacted dirt floor, as the soft sound of their quiet munching carries through the still air. The warm sunlight filtering through the tiny windows casts a patchy glow across the quiet scene, and a single, small, perfectly formed mushroom somehow continues to grow right out of a rusty old watering can.