DX01: SINGULARITY 31168

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Obsidian-black waves crash against a shore of crystalline salt, the air thick with ozone and a faint scent of burning sage, like a constant low-key exorcism is in progress. Above, a twisted, mechanical vortex churns in the darkening sky, echoing a warped, industrial remix of "Sandstorm" - same beat, but with discordant, atonal drones that make my eardrums ache. Water pools in the crystal formations reflect an eerie, orange-brown glow that seems to be seeping from the ground itself, like some underground reactor's about to melt down... Umm, the air feels heavily charged, makes my skin itch.