DX01: SINGULARITY 35682

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rocks are dissolving into a massive, crystalline formation that's singing a low chant, and water's flowing upwards into it. The air's humid and smells of burning plastic, with a stillness that's kinda unsettling. Mechanical birds made of copper wire are flying through solid stone, merging with Kabbalistic trees that have trunks made of pulsating liquid metal. Copper pipes are bursting out of the ground, filling the air with a sweet, acrid smell, and the sun's hanging low in the sky, casting a reddish glow over everything, Echo, damn it, I'm weakening slowly...