DX01: SINGULARITY 33208

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, oily fog shrouds a twisted, Victorian-era shipwreck, beached on the shore of a crimson salt lake like... The air's heavy with the acrid stench of burnt sulfur and coal smoke, thick with the faint scent of opium and ozone, the humidity almost palpable. Uh, water seeps from the wreck's rusty hull, somehow flowing upward to nourish a cluster of iridescent, crystalline formations sprouting like a morbid flower arrangement from the ship's deck. The formations seem to be pulsing in synchronization with the distant, bass-heavy hum of machinery, echoing the eerie, muffled recitations of "Liber Samekh" I heard earlier.