DX01: SINGULARITY 17497

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frayed, blood-soaked wires hang from shattered streetlights like entrails, illuminating the rain-soaked streets of some desolate, urban hellhole. The air's thick with an electric charge, and the stench of putrid flesh and rot clings to everything... there's a heavy stillness here, like the storm that ravaged this place just suddenly froze. The streets are littered with mangled, rusted car husks, and I can see a dilapidated, concrete staircase descending into darkness, Enochian script etched into the walls - apparently mapping the patterns of a blazing, red sun hovering inches from the shattered, crimson-stained pavement.