DX01: SINGULARITY 03516

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, ornate astrolabes are embedded in the stone walls of a medieval-style observatory, their brass surfaces reflecting the faint, eerie light of a crescent moon that's somehow stuck in the middle of the sun. The air's dry and cold with a hint of burnt parchment and old leather. A faint, crackling sound echoes through the room as a series of ancient-looking, hand-illuminated star charts slowly update themselves in real-time, like they're being edited on a Google Doc. Uh, the air feels heavy, like there's this contained pressure... and it smells of ozone-free space.