The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shit... the interior of a hollowed-out, crystalline asteroid is filled with a million replicas of itself, like, spilling out into every damn direction. The air's freezing, still, and heavy with the scent of... ozone-free space, and umm, everything's reflected in every damn surface – including my own mind, which is now flooded with fragmented images of... everywhere. The asteroid's shell is somehow shattering and reforming in sync with my own labored breathing, like it's... linked to my own failing pulse, and I'm pretty sure I'm now staring directly at my own brain from the inside out.