DX01: SINGULARITY 28810

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A blizzard rages around the wreckage of a Soviet-era research station, its corrugated metal panels partially buried in drifting snow. The air's frigid, with a sharp, biting wind that's creating miniature whirlwinds of powder around the twisted remains of the station's radio antenna. Uh, there's a weird feeling of... an electric charge, like static electricity, and above the wreckage, a seemingly infinite, knotted loop of what looks like fiber-optic cabling has somehow merged with the swirling snow, casting an ethereal, pulsing glow across the surrounding drifts. The wind's howling through the wreckage, like a cacophony of screaming.