DX01: SINGULARITY 02003

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a massive, gutted hulk of a research station somehow sprawls across this frozen, Antarctic ice shelf, like, actual wreckage and debris are half-buried in the ice, and there's this low, pulsing hum, like the station's equipment is still sputtering. The air's thick with the stench of rotting seal flesh, and it's really cold, the sky's a deep, sickly yellowish-gray with this pale, bloated sun hanging low in the sky. Actual miniature wormholes seem to be forming and dissipating in the station's central core, somehow contained, but the silence is broken by the sound of shattering ice echoing off the station's walls.