DX01: SINGULARITY 33332
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, weathered, fossilized trees pierce the grey-blue sky like colossal pillars, their twisted trunks frozen in perpetual agony amidst an endless expanse of fine, iridescent sand that seems to shift and writhe like a living entity. The air is heavy with the scent of salt and forgotten epochs, the stillness oppressive and charged with an electric tension that makes the hairs on my skin stand on end. In the distance, a cyclopean stone gate yawns open, guarded by twin obsidian statues that appear to have been grown, rather than carved, their surfaces etched with ciphers from the Pnakotic Manuscripts. A faint hum emanates from the gate, as if a vortex has opened within it.
