DX01: SINGULARITY 33135

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, dusty tomes overflow from a decaying, Baroque-style library, the musty smell of worn parchment hanging heavy in the stagnant air. Uh, massive, gilded mirrors somehow seem to be seamlessly integrated into the ornate, stone walls, reflecting multiple iterations of a candlelit, Byzantine altar, each iteration slightly distorted, as if reflected in rippling water. Like... tendrils of overgrown, crimson-tinted ivy are snaking out of a large, leather-bound book, the pages seeming to turn of their own accord, as if an unseen hand were browsing through them. Distant, mournful church bells echo through the stillness.