DX01: SINGULARITY 12979

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, towering layers of iridescent opal stretch out like... a giant, twisted accordion, somehow unfolding from the ground. The air's really dry and still, with a faint scent of baking soda, and the pale, golden light of late afternoon filters through the opal, casting no shadows anywhere. Water is somehow flowing upwards through the layers, creating these little, crystalline structures that are, like, pulsing with a weird, inner light. The silence is almost deafening, broken only by the occasional, low rumble of the opal shifting, like the ground itself is alive and, uh, sighing.