DX01: SINGULARITY 17607

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, ancient astrolabe is half-buried in the ground, its intricately carved surfaces reflecting the pale, silver light of a midday sun that seems stuck at the horizon. Uh, the air's heavy with the stench of rotting seaweed and there's this constant, almost imperceptible vibration in the air, like the hum of a harp string. A beach strewn with shattered, fossilized seashells stretches out towards the twisted, rusting hulk of an ancient warship, its cannons blown open like burst fruit. The sky above is a deep, sickly green, with a crescent moon hanging low and full, despite it being daytime.