DX01: SINGULARITY 20157

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarled, crystalline stalactites are dripping this viscous, syrupy substance into an overflowing, antique teacup sitting on a weathered, driftwood table... like, surrounded by concentric rings of mushrooms, their caps glowing with this soft, ethereal light in an abandoned, underwater lighthouse. Uh, the air's thick with the smell of old honey, as schools of tiny, bioluminescent fish swim past the grimy lantern windows, casting flickers on the walls. Water's somehow seeping upward through the cracked, wooden floorboards, defying gravity, as an invisible pressure slowly crushes the teacup, the sound echoing through the stillness.