DX01: SINGULARITY 32438

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, dripping moss hangs from twisted, metal support beams, in a neglected greenhouse. Umm, the heavy, humid air smells strongly of decaying earth and wet stone, with the scent of ozone hanging precariously in the background. The overgrown glass panels diffuse sunlight into a pale green haze, with tendrils of ivy bursting through the broken panes, and, somehow, an old, ornate, Victorian-era grandfather clock appears to be embedded within the trunk of a massive, ancient fern, its mechanism quietly ticking away despite being consumed by the plant's thick foliage. The air is almost palpably heavy with anticipation...