The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A slow-moving stream of crystal clear water cuts through the center of a totally empty parking garage, like, with faded lines on the ground and flickering fluorescent lights overhead that somehow still work. The air's musty and stale, and I can hear the sound of running water echoing off the walls as it flows down the gentle slope, eventually disappearing under some steel doors at the far end. A bunch of old, dusty sedans somehow continuously drive themselves super slow around the upper levels, just circling, their headlights shining down. It smells like gasoline and wet concrete.