DX01: SINGULARITY 10599

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Waterlogged papyrus scrolls are strewn across a dry, cracked lakebed, reflecting the faint, orange light of a setting sun like a scattered mirror. The air's thick with the smell of damp silt and stale air, a low hum of static electricity crackling the fine dust around me... Umm, thin tendrils of fog are creeping out of the exposed pipes of an ancient, half-buried pipe organ, as if it's slowly exhaling into the still air. Above, the clouds are aligned into a precise, occult sigil of the Behenian Fixed Stars.