DX01: SINGULARITY 03145
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A thick layer of crystallized salt coats the rusting hulks of what looks like... discarded rocket boosters, strewn across a desolate, black rock beach like trash after a storm. The air's heavy with the smell of burnt fuel and ozone-free electricity, and the pale blue sky above seems to be reflecting an impossible, Escher-like maze pattern off the still water of a nearby, hexagonal canal system. Water's somehow flowing upwards out of the canal's depths, supporting a tangle of levitating, corroded pipelines that seem to be pumping a viscous, silver liquid into the boosters, which are slowly reassembling themselves. Umm, the sun's about two-thirds of the way above the horizon.
