DX01: SINGULARITY 17390

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A maze of splintered, wooden, anatomically correct ribcages rises from the ground, like, each one cracked open to reveal a mess of black, pulsing organs. Uh, the air is thick with an electric charge and reeks of decay, while a fine, pinkish mist clings to everything, coating the ground in a slick layer. The ribcages appear to be slowly, incrementally shifting, reforming into new, impossible geometries that defy their original structure, as if being rearranged by some unseen force. A sickly, yellowish-green haze hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the area.