DX01: SINGULARITY 33320

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, polished obsidian stalactites dangle like swords of night, piercing a dimly lit cavernous space filled with the sweet, heady aroma of ozone. Umm, the air's electric charge is palpable, and the sound of steady, pattering raindrops on stone is omnipresent – but there's not a drop of water anywhere, only an endless, arid sea of powdery grey sand that stretches as far as I can see. A colossal, antique wooden ship somehow pierces the solid stone above, its hull cracked and worn, bleached white, half-buried in the rock itself.