DX01: SINGULARITY 02775
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a decrepit, ancient lighthouse stands precariously at the edge of a storm-battered cliffside, the paint worn off its surface revealing rusting metal beneath. Like, the air's heavy with salt and the smell of diesel, the wind whipping around in fierce gusts as seagulls wheel and dive overhead, their cries cutting through the sound of waves crashing against the rocks below. A pale, early morning sunlight barely penetrates the murk, casting an eerie gloom over everything, and somehow the beam from the lighthouse's lantern room is shining directly upwards, supporting a section of dark, rippling space that's literally folded back to reveal a sliver of pure, star-filled night sky.
