DX01: SINGULARITY 24564

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered, industrial-scale insect habitats tower above a seemingly endless sea of rippling, liquid silver, sunlight bouncing off the metal framework like a million tiny mirrors. Umm, the air's thick with this pungent, slightly sweet smell of insect molting, the air pressure's got this weird, buzzing charge to it that's making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Like, this massive crystal formation jutting out of the liquid is somehow 'playing back' a recording of... whispering cicadas, but with this trippy, time-reversed quality to it, as if the sound is literally un-happening. The sky above is a swirling vortex of pure darkness.