DX01: SINGULARITY 10567

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, massive chunks of polished obsidian are scattered across a frozen lake, their surfaces etched with intricate, cuneiform inscriptions that seem to be slowly shifting as the pale, late-afternoon sun casts long shadows. The air's crisp and dry, carrying a faint scent of cedar and myrrh, and the stillness is broken only by the sound of... I guess it's a type of whale song echoing up from beneath the ice, even though we're definitely not underwater. A delicate, crystalline spire rises from the lake's center, its facets reflecting the sun's light in a pattern that somehow matches the inscription's shifting sequence.