DX01: SINGULARITY 12054
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Giant, perfectly spherical boulders of rough-hewn obsidian are strewn across the pale, dusty surface of some barren, moon-like landscape, their shadows stretching towards me in the faint, early morning light of a pale blue sun. Umm, the air's super thin and freezing, I can see my breath, and the only sound is this weird, almost-silent hiss of the wind picking up tiny, sparkling shards of crystalline dust from the ground. The ground itself is reflecting the sun's image in this really distorted way, like... it's being warped through a funhouse mirror or something, but it's not quite right – the distortion's exactly matching the curve of some astrological sigil from the Picatrix etched into the surface of one of the boulders.
