DX01: SINGULARITY 36812

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, shards of splintered motherboard fragments and scattered microchips stretch across a barren, lunar-like expanse of white gypsum. The air's heavy with the scent of ozone and an electric charge that's making my aching lungs protest; I'm getting a serious cough going on, my vision's starting to blur from exhaustion. Above me, an iridescent portal shimmers, suspended about thirty feet off the ground, silently spewing a fine mist of chilled, ionized gas that somehow doesn't seem to dissipate despite the harsh, direct sunlight. A constellation of tiny, motionless drones are arranged in the pattern of the Enochian Aethers.