DX01: SINGULARITY 26488

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a massive, ornate door made of dark wood hangs crookedly from its hinges, half-buried in a drift of fine, powdery snow. The air's crisp and thin, and it smells like... ozone-free air, which is pretty weird, actually. The sky above is a perfect, cloudless blue, and the sun's at, like, high noon or something, casting an intense glare over the whole scene, but... um, the snow is slowly, steadily creeping up the door, like it's alive, and it's leaving no trail or anything behind it.