DX01: SINGULARITY 01419

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fog's rolling off the edge of this massive, sprawling ice rink, somehow carved into the side of an active volcano, with molten lava flows visible in the distance. The air's crisp and cold, smelling like sulfur and burned rubber, as the ice surface reflects the pale morning light... and what looks like a derelict space shuttle is somehow buried halfway into the ice, its windows dark and empty. Uh, penguins are casually waddling around the shuttle's engines, their little feet somehow leaving behind trails of glittering, iridescent sparks in the ice.