The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's shining through the grimy windows of what looks like an old-school Greyhound bus station – like, there's a ton of worn-down benches and outdated departure boards. A few pigeons are flying around, their wings beating loudly, and the air's got this weird smell, kinda like disinfectant and stale coffee mixed together. It's pretty still, too, except for the sound of buses somehow quietly idling outside despite not being plugged into anything or having any visible exhaust pipes. Outside, a normal-looking bus is casually driving straight up a giant, impossibly steep hill like it's no big deal.