DX01: SINGULARITY 16833

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-encrusted surgical tools are scattered across a worn, metal autopsy table, illuminated by faint sunlight filtering through grimy, wire-reinforced windows high above. Uh, the air's heavy with the stench of rot and formaldehyde, the humidity's intense... The table's situated near the edge of a large, circular, underground chamber filled with maybe a thousand, identical, rusted hospital beds, each one containing a meticulously dissected, rotting pig carcass, their entrails splayed in perfect, symmetrical patterns, like some sort of bizarre, organic mandala. Meanwhile, a low hum vibrates through the air, causing the pigs' disembodied hearts to beat in unison.