The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, shredded bits of paper and torn-up notebooks are scattered around a cramped, abandoned mine shaft, the air thick with dust and the smell of damp earth. Like, sunlight is filtering in through a small opening in the distance, casting a faint glow over everything, but the atmosphere's heavy and foreboding. A broken, ancient pulley system somehow continues to crank and turn, pulling along a never-ending rope made of what looks like tangled animal intestines, creaking and groaning under the weight of its own momentum. It's quiet and still, apart from that unsettling sound.