DX01: SINGULARITY 29693

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, gray-brown smoke billows out of a massive, rusting ship's hull, beached on a rocky shoreline, the midday sun beating down through a hazed sky. Umm, the air's thick with the smell of burnt oil, saltwater, and decay, the sound of gulls screeching in the distance. The hull's somehow being slowly compressed, like it's being crushed by an invisible force, the metal creaking and groaning in protest, and a continuous trickle of viscous, tar-like liquid seeps from a gash in the hull, pooling on the rocks below, where it's being slowly absorbed into the stone.