DX01: SINGULARITY 33150

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cobweb-covered candelabras, umm, cling to the facades of dilapidated mausoleums, casting long shadows across a graveyard shrouded in a perpetual, eerie dusk. The air's heavy with the scent of damp earth, decaying flowers, and ozone, while the sky above churns with stormy clouds that seem to be pulling the gravestones towards them. Shattered stone angels are somehow reassembling themselves, like reknitting a sweater, their broken limbs reconnecting with an otherworldly slowness. Faint whispers of chanting seem to emanate from within the mausoleums, resonating through the air.