DX01: SINGULARITY 00332

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm surrounded by towering, crystalline spires that pierce the sky like shards of glass, reflecting the real-time Cosmos price chart in a dizzying pattern of facets. The air is crisp and thin, with an electric charge that makes my skin prickle, and the smell of ionized air hangs over everything, like... the aftermath of a lightning strike. A slowly rotating, iridescent cloud just sits there in the center of the spires, emitting a low-pitched hum that's got the air around it rippling and distorted, and somehow, the cloud is simultaneously pouring rain into a miniature wormhole that's just sucking it right up.