The module, later known as Module 7, began its existence in an era long before the Sundering. Originally conceived as a sophisticated botanical preservation vault, it was an integral part of the planet's vast orbital elevator tether system, designed to safeguard vital flora. Its precise founding date remains lost to history.

Following the Sundering and the rise of the Red Sun Dominion, Module 7 was dramatically repurposed. The Dominion transformed it into a high-yield protein farm, renaming it "The Weeping Lung" due to its constant, organic output. From this point forward, it served a grim purpose, producing the base organic slurry for the nutrient paste fed to the Harvested miners toiling on Gilded Quarry below.

Ten years ago, a catastrophic failure struck the sector's artificial gravity plating. This sudden shift plunged much of Module 7 into microgravity, a seemingly devastating event for the Dominion's operations. However, Dominion overseers made an unexpected discovery.

The genetically modified algae strains cultivated within the module actually proliferated faster in the new microgravity environment. Rather than undertake costly and complex repairs, the Dominion sealed the bulkheads, disabled the primary lights to conserve power, and declared it a Hazardous Production Zone. The module continued its production, albeit under vastly different and dangerous conditions.

Since that time, only the most expendable Harvested are dispatched into the zero-G filth of The Weeping Lung. Equipped with magnetic boots and essential filtration masks, they scrape the floating biomass from the walls, enduring the oppressive dark and the omnipresent, unbreathing growth. The Dominion guards, loath to enter the perilous environment, refuse entry.

The module's isolation has had an unforeseen consequence. With surveillance cameras long since smashed or obscured by mold, Module 7 has become a secret sanctuary for the enigmatic Cult of the Sleeper. They whisper among themselves that the aggressive plant life is not just a farm, but an entity slowly consuming the station from the inside out.

Today, Module 7 stands functionally feral, a testament to unchecked biological proliferation. While its unique ecosystem is biologically thriving, its mechanical systems are in a critical state. It continues to operate, unsupervised, a bizarre, organic factory lost to the control of its creators.