DX01: SINGULARITY 17365

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gutted, cyclopean monoliths lie scattered across a dusty, barren wasteland like they've been torn from the earth, their surfaces etched with ancient cuneiform script that seems to be seeping a noxious, black ichor. The air is heavy with the stench of decay, and the stillness is oppressive, punctuated only by the distant, labored grinding of machinery. Umm, a massive, mechanical arachnid claws its way out of the shattered remains of some colossal, crystalline structure, its limbs slick with oil and ichor. The sun hangs at a 90-degree angle to the ground, somehow not casting a single shadow.