DX01: SINGULARITY 20628

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, purple mist swirls through a vast, ornate bazaar, like... umm, the air's alive or something. The smell of frankincense and myrrh hangs heavy, and the sound of clinking glass and metal echoes through the space. Impossible, non-Euclidean staircases seem to be sprouting from the intricately patterned rugs, leading to multiple, overlapping versions of the same stalls, which are somehow all perfectly symmetrical and balanced, defying the laws of geometry. The air pressure's really high here, feels like it's pressing down on everything.