The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dust motes dance around a beam of pale light piercing the stained glass dome above a massive, abandoned astronomical observatory, its once-polished brass fixtures now tarnished and covered in grime. The air's musty and stale, with a hint of something sweet, like honey. Umm, the silence is almost deafening, except for this weird low hum – feels like it's vibrating through the entire structure – and outside, beyond the dome, the sky is pitch black, despite what looks like the sun still being high in the sky. Gravity appears to be slightly weaker here, like my feet aren't fully touching the ground.