The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twisted, metallic roots erupt from the surface of a partially-disassembled space station like a burst pipe, tangled with shredded Ethernet cables and motherboards. The air reeks of burned wiring, with a sickly sweet smell of decay, and there's an electric charge making my skin prickle...the space station's interior is shifting and reforming, revealing glitchy ASCII art etched into the exposed mechanical systems. Umm, the gravity's super weak, and a grotesque, pulsing eyeball - seemingly made of twitching fiber-optic cables - is lodged in the station's center, staring out at the surrounding void.