DX01: SINGULARITY 17156

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crushed and mangled wreckage of some sort of aircraft or airship litters a vast, barren expanse of rust-red sand, with twisted metal shards and chunks of debris scattered as far as the eye can see. Like, the air's heavy with the stench of fuel and ozone, and it's dead still - not a breath of wind stirs the sand or disturbs the wreckage. Overhead, a bloated, pulsing cloud that seems to be seeping a sickly yellowish haze hangs suspended in the sky, somehow completely stationary despite the presence of high-level winds visible in the upper atmosphere. Uh, it's maybe early morning, with the sun low on the horizon.