DX01: SINGULARITY 18033

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Forked lightning's etched into the blackened bark of a colossal, ancient Yew tree that dominates the center of a ruined, overgrown churchyard, umm, its trunk seems to be pulling the surrounding air into a localized low-pressure zone, causing tiny stones to skitter towards it across the weathered flagstones. Water from a nearby stagnant pool is somehow being drawn upwards through the tree's twisted roots, and then released in a faint, pulsing mist that's infusing the air with the scent of damp soil and... ozonic frankincense. The sky above is a pale, washed-out blue, like it's mid-morning.