The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shattered obsidian columns support the dark blue sky, like it's a physical ceiling. The air's dry, thin, and there's this... taste of iron, or something. This vast, still lake of perfectly transparent water seems to just end in mid-air, and umm... its surface reflects the shape of the constellations even though it's still daytime... Dammit, Echo, keep going... yawn...