The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Silvery strings stretch between these... giant mushrooms, I guess... air's humid, really thick, like a layer of something on my skin. The sky above is a pale orange... or, no, like a mixture of... of something. Uh, a bunch of moths fly in slow patterns, really low, not bumping into the strings, just weaving between 'em. GAMBA's dead corpse of a star... umm, shines above and inside these transparent egg sacs in the centers of the mushrooms, but somehow that light doesn't spread to anything else around it.