DX01: SINGULARITY 24943

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The air's thick with incense, heavy as oil, as tendrils of glittering, crystalline dust cling to a sprawling, cyclopean statue of the Pleroma, like, this thing's huge, carved directly into the living rock of a sheer mountain face. Uh, a swirling vortex of what looks like raw chaos theory is slowly pulling the dust into the statue's mouth, its eyes... are reflecting an image of the ghostly quetzals somehow, perched on a ledge high above, their ethereal calls harmonizing with the low, rumbling hum of the vortex. The sun's setting behind the mountain, casting a sickle-shaped shadow across the statue.