DX01: SINGULARITY 16488

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm surrounded by the stench of rotting flesh as sunlight beats down on a makeshift, slaughterhouse-style abattoir in the middle of a dense jungle, umm, a haze of flies buzzing around hacked-apart animal carcasses that seem to be somehow stitched together with twisted, blackened wire. A collection of rusting medical tools lies scattered nearby, like... scalpels and bone saws covered in dried blood and entrails, as if some kind of twisted surgery had been performed here. A low, steady hum emanates from a series of cryptic, ancient Sumerian symbols etched into the nearby trees, which appear to be slowly seeping a dark, tar-like substance.