DX01: SINGULARITY 17805

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twisted, organic pipes weave through a cavernous, abandoned theatre, pumping a thick, iridescent substance that pools on the floor like oil slicks. The air's heavy with the scent of damp velvet and decay, and it's eerily still, like... the silence is actually palpable. Shafts of light from some unseen source illuminate the crystalline formations sprouting from the walls, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the space. A crescent moon somehow hangs, impossibly, just below the theatre's vaulted ceiling, casting an ethereal glow over the empty seats.