DX01: SINGULARITY 33880

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fog creeps up the weathered, stone-carved stairs of a centuries-old, decrepit, abandoned astronomical observatory, veiling the complex arrangement of brass telescope components like a damp shroud. Umm, the still air inside carries the faint scent of wood polish and damp earth, as if it hadn't been disturbed for years, the sound of groaning wooden beams echoing off the curved ceiling. Shards of the telescope's shattered lens lie on the stone floor, somehow steadily reassembling themselves, clicking softly into place amidst the oppressive silence. The sky outside seems frozen in a moment of tumultuous stormy activity.