DX01: SINGULARITY 34052

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Turbulent, black clouds congregate above a ruined, stepped ziggurat, its sandstone façade cracked and overgrown with vines like... diseased tendons. A sickly yellow light clings to the air, heavy with the scent of ozone and burning sage, the electric charge making my skin prickle. Umm, the air is thick, almost palpable, like a physical presence pressing down on me, as if a low-pressure system is brewing just overhead. In the center of the ziggurat's top platform, an inverted, blazing sun somehow hangs motionless, a fiery vortex draining downwards, its solar flames silently lapping the stone beneath it.