DX01: SINGULARITY 11406

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dappled sunlight filters through the stained-glass windows of an ancient, octagonal lighthouse, casting geometric patterns on the dusty, air-filled interior. Like, the smell of old oil and rust hangs heavy in the still air as a spiral staircase appears to be unwinding itself, like a metal ribbon unspooling from the lantern room down into the darkness below. The surrounding air seems charged with an electric hum that's making my skin prickle, and I can hear a constant, pulsing thud, umm, maybe a heartbeat, coming from within the lighthouse's stone foundation. The windows seem to be watching the sky.