DX01: SINGULARITY 16996

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A decrepit, stone-walled torture chamber lies half-submerged in the middle of a stagnant, black-water swamp, the air heavy with the stench of rotting flesh and brackish water. Like, the stillness is broken only by the sound of dripping water and the creaking of rusty iron, while the pale yellow sun casts a sickly glow through the murk at a late-afternoon angle. A rusting, iron-framed chair appears to be slowly assembling itself in the center of the room, leather straps writhing like snakes as they bind to the frame. Uh, tiny, golden icons of the Catholic Stations of the Cross are somehow embedded in the surface of the water.