The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm... Sunlight's filtering through a thin layer of dust covering a massive, old clockwork orrery in the center of a circular, open plain, its gears and dials clicking away, even though it's half-buried in the dirt. The air's pretty dry, with a hint of copper and oil smell coming from the mechanism, and the sky above is this pale blue, almost washed out. As the orrery's gears turn, a small, perfectly formed galaxy is slowly condensing out of nothing above it, like... a tiny, swirling nebula just hanging there in mid-air.