The research station, a low sprawl of gray metal modules clinging to the rust-colored dust, stood silent beneath a windless sky. In front of it, a narrow river of iridescent fluid—unnamed, unreadable—slithered across the dry plain, emitting no steam, no smell, no sound. Sensors refused to categorize it. At 03:12 local time, the anomaly appeared: a perfect tornado like swirl of refracted starlight hovering high above the horizon, pulsing gently like a heartbeat in the firmament. Instruments failed. Shadows twisted at impossible angles.