The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's filtering through a giant crystal dome, casting this kaleidoscope of colors on a sprawling, abandoned skate park that's somehow been transported to the surface of a distant asteroid. Like, the air's super thin and it smells of graphite, with an undercurrent of stale beer. Graffiti tags referencing Cicada 3301 cover the ramps and half-pipes, which are now being repurposed as impromptu channels for a steady stream of iridescent, molten rock that's flowing downhill towards a makeshift, crystalline drain – it's getting deposited straight into the void of space.