This heretical alien altar rises in cold, geometric tiers, every step angled to catch starlight in ways no human architect would consider. Pilgrims of outlawed star‑cults gather on its upper platforms to align their offerings with invisible constellations, trusting equations carved into the stone long before mankind learned fire. Imperial surveyors insist the ziggurat is inert—but their auspex logs always show a tiny spike in background radiation whenever someone whispers a wish at its peak.
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