DX01: SINGULARITY 02016

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tangled, thorny vines cover a dilapidated, wrought-iron conservatory that's somehow clinging to the side of a sheer, granite cliff face. Umm, wispy strands of cirrus cloud are actually passing through the broken panes of glass like they're made of smoke or something, and the air's heavy with the scent of wet earth and overripe fruit. Outside, the sun's still stuck in the corner of the sky, casting an eerie, orange glow on the rocky outcroppings. It's like... completely still in here, no wind or anything, but I can hear the sound of dripping water echoing through the space.