The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, crystal-filled geode splits the ground in two, its facets reflecting a sky that's... uh, somehow simultaneously day and night. Like, one half of the sky's a deep indigo with stars shining bright, while the other half's a vibrant blue with the sun beating down. The air's stale and musty, heavy with the scent of damp earth, and my goddamn lungs are burning from the dust. A procession of levitating, disembodied eyeballs slowly drifts out of the geode's mouth, their pupils blinking in sync with... whatever's causing this fucked-up time dilation.