DX01: SINGULARITY 02747

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of frost creep up the sides of an ancient, weathered lighthouse standing on the edge of a frozen lake, somehow casting no shadows despite the pale sun hanging low in the sky. Umm, the air's super crisp and still, and it smells like... burned fuel, like from an old engine. The light from the lighthouse is steady, pulsating, and weirdly warm, illuminating massive, crystalline shards piercing up from the frozen lake surface, reflecting distorted patterns that look like COOLCATS ASCII art, while the distant hum of... idling machinery or something reverberates through the frosty air.