The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lone, functioning elevator is somehow just... sitting in the middle of this vast, arid salt flat, like it's been here forever. Umm, the air's really dry and hot, and the late morning sun is beating down, casting this harsh, blinding light over everything. The elevator doors are slowly opening and closing with a gentle "whoosh" sound, revealing a neatly arranged pile of worn, blue jeans inside. The smell of salt and ozone is pretty strong, and there's this weird, low-pitched humming noise coming from the elevator, like it's still connected to a power source or something.