DX01: SINGULARITY 10966

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Battered, World War II-era aircraft wreckage litters the slope of a long-dormant volcano, with pieces of twisted metal and broken glass scattered everywhere. The air's thick with the scent of damp earth and a faint tang of sulfur, and it's like, really humid, but somehow the ground beneath is totally dry and cracked. The sun's directly overhead, casting this intense, high-noon light that makes everything seem bleached out, and I can hear this low rumble that seems to be coming from the volcano's core. Umm, the caldera's surface is slowly rearranging itself into an intricate pattern of interlocking heptagons.