DX01: SINGULARITY 10479

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rounded hills of iridescent salt stretch out in every direction, shimmering with a light that's like... it's almost noon, but the sun's not in the sky. A flock of silver birds are pecking at the salt, leaving trails of tiny, glowing footprints behind them, and the air's got a weird, buzzing charge to it, like right before a thunderstorm. Umm, a delicate, crystalline palace rises out of the salt, its facets reflecting images of the Enochian alphabet, which seem to be shifting, rearranging themselves according to some unknown pattern.