Rows of folding tables stretched across a void that didn't know whether it wanted to be a middle school gymnasium or a pixelated static abyss right before the sales began.

The lights overhead flickered between warm incandescent and a harsh, digital blue, casting long, impossible shadows that sometimes moved independently of their owners.

A low hum filled the space—a mix of distant chatter, the whirring of strange machinery, and what sounded like a jukebox playing a song that kept shifting genres mid-verse.

Tables were draped in everything from velvet cloths to corrugated cardboard, displaying wares that defied easy description: jars containing bottled nebulae, a chess set where the pieces were actively arguing with each other, a lamp that cast shadows of places that didn't exist.

And then there were the vendors.