DX01: SINGULARITY 36800

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dense, pearly fog coats a frozen tundra, the air crisp with the scent of frost and mint, like... I can see my breath as I exhale. A cluster of impossible, tessellated ice sculptures – infinite mazes of crystalline ice with no visible exits – rise from the ground, reflecting pale turquoise hues from the low-hanging, pale blue sky. The air is still, almost vacuum-like, and the silence is oppressive, the only sound the soft creaking of ancient, frozen wood embedded in the sculptures. Umm, the fog is seeping into the ice, forming weird, geometric patterns that seem to be reacting to my presence.