Eyes are a thing that exist, yes.

Though the view when they're opened is distinctly odd. A - mountain? Maybe it's a mountain - arcs up in the distance. The slope is asymptotic. It doesn't have a clear top, receding into the distance. The firmament wheels above, a myriad of colors splashed across the black night sky. Stars wander in uncertain paths, and bright planets roll without aim. There's a pool in front of them, water dark and green. Twisted things that might be plants ring the clearing, their leaves phosphorescently iridescent in blue and purple and pink. The field sparkles like diamonds have been scattered across it. The air is distinctly cold, and the ground crackles under them when they shift. 

Worry: Why can we see the stars move? How fast is time passing exactly? 

Analytic steps forward to brush the surface of the pool with the end of a plant, to see how fast the waves move. Step presses attention up and out, and Analytic redirects to finding patterns in the celestial movements.

The waves move rather slowly, and the water is resistant - normal, if it's more viscous than plain water.

The colorful clouds are streaming more-or-less in the same direction. The stars and planets don't have a noticeable pattern.

They look down at the field and the ground. A flow tries to appear around the inspection, but Step cuts it off. Too much to find out.

That's probably just ice? Though it's dark, with no color other than the glint of light. No trapped air giving it depth.

Jiyū reaches a hand into the pool with some apprehension. They’re starting to get cold. 

It is indeed thick like molasses, and oddly warm.

After spending some more time looking around, Jiyū gets cold enough that they start to lose energy. Smaller fragments fall away until the need to be clean fades enough that they can climb in the pool for warmth.

The pool is, indeed, warm.

Sometime later, there's a humming noise in the distance, an unfamiliar tune.