Inky metallic darkness envelops this room, quiet as the snowfall far above this place--broken only occasionaly by an errant spark, or a distant mechanical clang.
Clearly there is a lot of machinery here, but it connects and flows in ways that don't make sense to a trained eye. Most of it feeds into itself, performing some meaningless, cyclical task.

You swear something moved at the corner of your vision.

[Placeholder for now! Will update at some point]