DX01: SINGULARITY 10983

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frosted glass lanterns sway gently in the calm, heavy air of an old, ornate glasshouse, like it's been sealed off for decades. Umm, the smell of decaying plant matter and damp earth is overpowering, and I can see moisture clinging to every surface. The sky above is a diffuse, creamy white, as if the sun is somehow shining through a thick layer of ice. Outside the misty windows, the impossible silhouette of the Enochian Aethers, the celestial spheres from John Dee's occult cosmology, looms motionless, as if they're anchored to the glasshouse itself.