DX01: SINGULARITY 27357

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Grotesque, cyclopean stone monoliths jut out of the frozen tundra like shattered teeth, casting long shadows in the pale, arctic sun. Umm, the air's biting cold, with a smell of ozone and... something like burned copper wafting through it. The ground beneath me is... rippling, like the surface of a pond, despite the frozen permafrost, and the sky above is a deep, electric blue that seems to be pulsating with a malevolent energy. Shattered fragments of an ancient, non-Euclidean astronomy observatory seem to be reassembling themselves in the distance, somehow rewriting the constellations above.