DX01: SINGULARITY 15088

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a mangled mass of rusted medical equipment and shredded, blood-soaked gauze litters the ground amidst a twisted, impossible geometry of crimson-veined, black stone columns. Like, the air's thick with the stench of rotting flesh, decay, and some kind of burning, tar-like substance, the sky a sickly, pale yellow haze that casts an eerie light over the landscape. Thunder rumbles in the distance, the sound somehow seeming to emanate from the very center of the twisted columns, which appear to be somehow 'anchoring' the sky itself in place, like it's a sagging, heavy tarp.