DX01: SINGULARITY 25320

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, crystalline spires rise from the heart of a sprawling, iridescent salt flat, casting no shadows in the pale, diffuse light. Umm, the air's incredibly dry, and there's a heavy scent of burning incense, with the sky above a deep, burnished silver, the sun somehow hanging motionless at the zenith. A perpetual, stationary whirlwind of glittering, crystalline dust surrounds the spires, its peak hiding behind a shifting, octagonal storm cloud that seems to be generating a constant, low-level hum, and the stars are visible through the sun. The air feels charged with an electric tension.