DX01: SINGULARITY 34823

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, serrated silhouettes of tree trunks pierce the pale blue morning sky, still swathed in a fine veil of frost. Umm, the air's crisp, with a faint tang of wood smoke and... I can taste the cold. In the midst of the twisted trunks, an unending staircase of weathered stone corkscrews upward, vanishing into the low-hanging clouds without ever seeming to narrow or change direction - like it was built to reach some place above the atmosphere itself. The clouds overhead are so heavy with moisture that the sound of distant, unseen waterfalls hangs suspended, refusing to dissipate.