DX01: SINGULARITY 12902

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A flock of starlings made entirely of what looks like polished obsidian is pecking at the dusty ground around a dilapidated, antique carousel organ that's somehow playing a jaunty tune despite having no visible mechanism. Umm, the air's got a thick, sweet scent of honey, and it's pretty humid - like, there's a thin layer of condensation on every surface. Water's seeping into a series of shallow, intricate stone channels carved into the ground, somehow flowing uphill to feed a cluster of massive, crystalline formations that are reflecting the late afternoon sun.