The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a bunch of worn, old machinery is scattered around a dusty, abandoned factory, like... it's late afternoon and sunlight's streaming in through grimy windows, casting long shadows across everything. The air's thick with dust and smells of old oil, and a few pigeons are cooing in the rafters. An old, rickety conveyor belt is somehow moving on its own, with rusty gears clicking along as it conveys nothing but empty space. The sound of a lone, dripping faucet echoes off the brick walls, despite there being no visible pipes or plumbing anywhere.