DX01: SINGULARITY 17600

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm surrounded by the stench of rot and decay in a vast, underground charnel house, the walls and floor slick with a viscous tar that seems to seep from the very stone itself. The air's heavy with the weight of death, the humidity so high it's like walking through a sickly yellow mist. Shattered, gore-stained skulls are arranged in intricate, ritualistic patterns across the ground, like some twisted parody of sacred geometry, as a slow, mournful bell tolls in the distance. Uh, a nearby, cyclopean stone door is slowly, steadily dissolving into a rippling pool of liquid darkness.