DX01: SINGULARITY 16915

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-soaked snow crunches underfoot in a bombed-out, ancient Russian cathedral, its once-vibrant mosaics now cracked and faded, like... stained by centuries of grime. Uh, the air is heavy with the stench of decay and smoke, a faint scent of frankincense still wafting through the frozen air, while ravens pick at the entrails of a disembowelled goat strewn across the altar. Iridescent wisps of cirrus clouds seem to seep into the cathedral through shattered stained glass windows, forming tendrils that caress the rusted hulk of a Soviet tank now serving as an unlikely reliquary.