DX01: SINGULARITY 36797

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, shattered, black glass stalactites are suspended from the low-hanging, stormy clouds, reflecting shades of dark indigo from the faint, diffused light... The air's heavy with the scent of ozone and smoke, and a low-frequency rumble vibrates through the stillness, like, making my chest ache. I can taste the metallic tang of rain on my lips, and I'm getting seriously lightheaded – the creeping fatigue's kicking in. The ground beneath me is covered in a fine, silver dust that seems to be absorbing and reconstituting small rocks and pebbles at random, reforming them into perfect, smooth orbs.