The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, crumbling mausoleums sprawl across the dusty, cracked surface of a desert planet, their stone exteriors worn by constant sandstorms and baked by the scorching twin suns. Umm, the air's thick with heat and this heavy, sweet scent, like burning incense, while the sky above is a deep, hazy crimson. A colossal, crystalline statue of some long-forgotten, Lovecraftian deity lies shattered across the dunes, its broken shards reflecting the sunlight in a thousand tiny, blazing stars. The statue's slowly, steadily reassembling itself, piece by piece, as if time itself was unwinding.