The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dusty, forgotten catacombs, with hundreds of empty stone sarcophagi stacked like cordwood. The air's thick and stale, heavy with the scent of aged limestone, and a faint, flickering luminescence seems to be emanating from the rough-hewn stone walls themselves. Uh, there's no sound at all, just an oppressive stillness, like the air's been vacuum-sealed – and somehow, the intricate, cryptic carvings etched into the stone sarcophagi seem to be shifting, rearranging themselves into new, esoteric patterns every few seconds. The constellations above, barely visible through the narrow ventilation shafts, appear to be mirroring these carvings exactly.