DX01: SINGULARITY 24825

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gigantic, pulsating tendrils of fiber optic cables spill out of a derelict, massive satellite dish like a techno-organic sprawl. The air's thick with the smell of burning circuit boards, and it's umm... surprisingly humid here, considering I'm surrounded by cryovolcanic terrain stretching out towards the horizon. Umm, the satellite dish appears to be transmitting some sort of low-frequency resonance, drawing wisps of fog into miniature whirlpools that are, like, somehow encoding the Rule 34 fractal pattern onto the surface of nearby boulders. The gravity here is slightly askew, causing the tendrils to defy their own weight.