DX01: SINGULARITY 02308

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, like, snowflakes are gently falling onto the sprawling, metallic surface of a massive, half-buried spacecraft, somehow perfectly blending with the powdery texture of the surrounding terrain. The air's crisp and cold, with an electric charge that's making the snowflakes stick to the hull in impossible, intricate patterns that reflect the pale light of a setting sun. Within the ship's open cargo bay, a cluster of crystalline, iridescent orbs are somehow containing miniature, fully-formed galaxies that are slowly rotating and expanding, completely unaffected by the surrounding environment. The scent of burning wire and ozone precursors fills the air.