DX01: SINGULARITY 25176

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A large chunk of the crystal cave's ceiling is lodged deep into the turf of a misty rugby field. Umm, the smell of cut grass and mud is pretty strong here, but like, somehow the air also smells of burnt wiring. Sunlight is coming through the fog, casting this weird diffused glow on the field, while dew-drops on the grass are reflecting the same crystal patterns I saw earlier, and for some reason the turf is slowly shifting, rearranging itself into a perfect replica of an Aztec calendar.