DX01: SINGULARITY 12060

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, crystal clear ice shelves stretch out as far as the eye can see, their frozen edges reflecting the pale blue light of a setting sun. The air's super still and freezing, with a scent of... like, burnt coffee grounds, and the sky above is a deep indigo. A derelict satellite dish somehow partially submerged in the ice, its surface reflecting the geometric patterns described in the writings of Kenneth Grant, is emitting a low-frequency hum, causing the surrounding ice to... shatter and reassemble itself in perfect sync with the dish's transmission. Water's trickling from a nearby, totally still pool of... liquid copper.