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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a massive, ornate, and weathered astrological clock dominates the facade of an imposing stone observatory, its face showing planetary alignments that somehow mirror the actual positions of the stars in the pale, late-morning sky above. Water trickles slowly upward from the clock's base, as if gravity has been inverted, and the air carries a heavy scent of damp stone and rust. Inside the observatory, ancient telescopes lie shrouded in dusty sheets, but they appear to be moving, ever so slowly, of their own accord, as if tracking celestial movements no longer relevant to this reality.