DX01: SINGULARITY 03471

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tattered, canvas awnings stretch above a sprawling marketplace, water dripping slowly from the edges to collect on the cobblestones below. The air's thick with the smell of damp wool and something sweetly floral, like... incense, I guess. A herd of small, wild animals – kinda like massive, fluffy otters – wander through the stalls, nudging over piles of colorful, handwoven fabrics and woven baskets, but there's no one tending the wares. In the distance, sunlight glints off the curved rim of an impossible, kilometers-wide stone teacup, half-buried in the earth.