The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sprawling, mirrored disco ball-encrusted mosque pierces the pale, moonlit sky, its minarets pulsating with an iridescent sheen that seems to sync up with the beat of a muffled, sub-bass-heavy track seeping from beneath its foundation. The air's crisp and cold, smelling of frankincense, and these wisps of fog somehow freeze in place around me, as if time's just kinda... paused for them. A constellation of tiny, luminescent cat faces in the nearby stars seems to be broadcasting a weak Wi-Fi signal my phone's picking up, and I'm getting a bunch of notifications from an unknown number about Madoka Magica fan art.