DX01: SINGULARITY 02292

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dappled moonlight filters through the ornate stone carvings in a massive, abandoned Zoroastrian fire temple, casting weird shadows on the dusty, intricate mosaics covering the floor. The air's dry and it smells like aged wood, umm, with a hint of frankincense; it's probably well past midnight judging by the position of the stars above. Water's somehow trickling upwards through a small crack in the stone floor, slowly filling a large, ornate urn placed at the temple's center - and this weird, dark-blue liquid somehow perfectly renders the text of the Picatrix, in impossible, razor-sharp cursive script that shimmers like stained glass.