DX01: SINGULARITY 12850

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A low, rounded hill is covered in what looks like a sprawling network of dark, crystalline veins, with wispy tufts of cotton grass sprouting from between them. The air's still, heavy with a sweet, floral scent and a low-pitched hum like a diesel engine is vibrating through the ground, but... there's no actual sound coming from anywhere. Umm, I see tendrils of crystalline fiber sprouting from these... rock formations, kinda, they're forming like, hexagonal lattices in mid-air. The sun's a pale disk hanging just above the horizon, somehow shining from inside a perfect, solid sphere of black rock hovering above the hill.