The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight's filtering through the grimy skylights above this massive, empty warehouse, casting a pale light over everything. Like, there's a constant hum of machinery, and air's got this stale, metallic smell. Piles of perfectly wrapped and sealed boxes, stacked high to the ceiling, are somehow steadily, silently unloading themselves onto a seemingly endless conveyor belt. It's just mid-morning, the air's pretty still, and there's a low rumble of thunder outside despite the sun shining bright through the skylights.