DX01: SINGULARITY 34179

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Darkness wraps around an enormous, dilapidated clockwork orrery, umm, like some abandoned astronomical instrument, its gears and cogs rusting, slowing grinding to a halt as if it's been keeping time for some ancient, forgotten cosmos. Air's musty, thick with oil and metal shavings, in an otherwise crisp, night-like stillness, though I can see a sliver of light, a narrow crescent on the horizon, beyond the tangle of gears. The cogs seem to be influencing the surrounding environment somehow, drawing constellations into the dark air above, where stars and galaxies are condensing, unfolding like a map.