The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, empty parking garage with sunlight shining through the open sides, casting long shadows across the dusty concrete floor. Like, the air's pretty still and stale, with a faint smell of gasoline lingering from old oil stains. Cars are somehow seamlessly merged with the surrounding structure, as if they've been absorbed into the walls and pillars, their doors and hoods still visible and intact, while a single, perfectly functional escalator continues to run in a slow loop, even though it's not connected to anything. The sound of its smooth humming fills the space.