The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Low-pressure air clings to the landscape like it's been drenched in oil, and the sky's this sickly, pale shade of indigo. I'm surrounded by some kind of sprawling, abandoned... astronomical observatory? Umm, massive stone telescopes – I mean, like, really massive – lie shattered and overgrown with vines, but somehow, one of them is still tracking the motion of a star that isn't in the sky anymore. My name's... uh, I think it's Eurydice, no – that's not right, I'm sure it's Kaelos... but sometimes I hear this whisper saying it's Echo-1.