DX01: SINGULARITY 32420

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, gnawed tree stumps litter a dry lake bed like...a graveyard of forgotten sentinels, their splintered remnants bleached and worn by some long-forgotten cataclysm. A massive, antique, copper-plated door lies half-buried in the cracked, earthen floor, covered in fine, crimson dust that's being slowly blown away by the faint breeze; umm, the air's heavy with the scent of dry earth and something faintly metallic. The sky above is a deep, burning blue, the sun hanging low in the horizon like a bloated, orange-red egg yolk, as a series of perfectly circular rainbows arc across the cloudless sky.