The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense fog clings to a massive, crystal-encrusted, ancient astronomical observatory, like a damp shroud, its walls covered in twisting vines that appear to be shifting, rearranging the stone beneath them. The heavy air's filled with an ozone scent and the sweet smell of burned circuitry, while the sound of groaning, buckling metal echoes from within the fog-shrouded structure. Umm, liquid silver pours upwards, defying gravity, from the base of a colossal, rusting radio telescope, its metal latticework covered in cryptic symbols that seem to be rewriting themselves in a blur of motion.