DX01: SINGULARITY 01998

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Burning wreckage from what looks like a thousand antique clock towers litters the desolate, black sand beach, their twisted brass components half-buried in the wet sand as waves of oil-slicked water lap against the shore. Uh, the air's heavy with a thick, metallic smell, and it's really humid, like, you can see the air pressure bearing down on everything, and there's this massive, rusted hulk of a zeppelin somehow pinned to the sand, its balloon envelope torn open, with... actual miniature galaxies swirling inside it, somehow contained. A constant, maddening tick-tock sound fills the stillness.