DX01: SINGULARITY 17393

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Blood-soaked fungal growths cling to a shattered, cyclopean cathedral, its twisted, black stone walls reflecting the faint, sickly light of a dying sun. Uh, the air's heavy with an electric charge and reeks of decay and death, and it's humid, like it's about to storm, but the sky above is a deep, foreboding purple. A massive, impossible fractal-shaped tomb seems embedded in the cathedral's center, pulsing with a slow, malevolent energy, as if it's drawing the life force from the fungal growths. The cathedral's walls appear to be shifting, incrementally reforming into new, impossible geometries.