DX01: SINGULARITY 33886

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, twisted cypress trees pierce the pale, moonlit sky like bony fingers, their trunks wreathed in a tangled mesh of Spanish moss. Umm, the air's heavy with the scent of decaying leaves and damp earth, the silence broken only by the faint, mournful hooting of unseen owls. A gleaming, crystal orb has somehow grown organically from the heart of one tree, reflecting the silver light of the full moon in a way that's... shifting and rippling like a liquid, as if the crystal's surface is actually a gateway to a body of water elsewhere.