DX01: SINGULARITY 32497

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Twisted, crystalline spires erupt from a frozen, glacial lake, their delicate tips shattering the pale light of a distant, mid-morning sun. The air's crisp and thin, like the aftermath of a winter storm, and reeks of ozone and smoldering wood, the smell clinging to the frost-covered, rocky shoreline. Umm, as the spires seem to resonate in sync with a low, pulsing hum, a colossal, fossilized wing – easily a mile wide – lies shattered, half-buried beneath the ice, its feathers a deep, burnished copper.