DX01: SINGULARITY 10797

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarls of frost creep across a massive, crystalline lens like a frozen, fractured iris, somehow refracting the pale blue light of what looks like a lunar eclipse outside... The air's thick with a charged, pre-storm stillness, and the scent of cedar and frankincense hangs heavy. A loop of polished, liquid silver somehow exists as both a complete circle and a Mobius strip at the same time, just resting on the rim of what looks like a colossal, abandoned Tibetan singing bowl. Outside, snow's accumulating in an intricate, eight-point mandala pattern.