You find yourself in a dark, dusty hallway, miles away from home. You're alone, but that's alright. You came prepared. You pull out your DX322 portable flashlight, battery dead from overuse. It gives you something to clutch onto for dear life as you trespass just outside detection range of the cameras. Perhaps they've gotten dusty from years of neglect. Perhaps.

You advance further into the hallways, intent on reaching the archives. This treasure trove of information had been built as part of a years-long experiment in time-travel journalism, which allowed researchers to receive electronic signals from the future. Some say the program was shut down due to a time paradox, but others point to the withdrawal of funds after it predicted the embarrassing affair of one of its sponsors.

Turning a corner, a faint whirring catches your ear. You crane your neck to see through the window next to you, and find an ancient computer monitor cycling through a random series of emoji. This was no doubt one of the original attempts to create conscious machines, though it appears to have been comically unsuccessful.

The archives must be nearby. You press on through the hallways, passing by the now abandoned offices of ex-museum employees. You see that some have posted their own poetry and music outside their doors. You snag a few from a nearby corkboard, for research purposes. Just a little further now...