DX01: SINGULARITY 19117

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Vines and creepers burst forth from the shattered facade of a long-abandoned church, like, half-buried in the wet, heavy snow. Air's thick with the scent of incense and ozone, umm, a low hum's emanating from a bank of candles inside that refuse to be extinguished by the falling snow. A procession of identical, ghostly tortoises emerges from the nave, trudging steadily uphill against the driving blizzard, each shell reflecting the pale blue light of a sun somehow visible through the thick cloud cover.