DX01: SINGULARITY 18687

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, twisted pipes burst through a cracked concrete floor like a metallic growth, partially filling a massive, abandoned, indoor natatorium. Umm, the humid air is still, and heavy with the smell of chlorine and mildew as the sun casts a pale, mid-morning glow through grimy skylights above. A lone, unoccupied lifeguard chair somehow exists submerged at the bottom of the empty, drained pool, while, like, a perfectly preserved, antique, nautical astrolabe just rests on the floor... Water's quietly seeping into the room, feeding into a scale model of the Qliphoth – the Kabbalistic Tree of Death – etched into a far wall.