DX01: SINGULARITY 37457

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, delicate glass threads are crisscrossing a massive, hollow geode like a spider's web, reflecting the pale morning light that's seeping in through a small opening above. The air's stale and heavy, feels like it's been trapped in here for years. My chest is killing me, I'm pretty sure I'm... running out of time, and for some reason, I remember needing to find something that could help me - a temple, I think, and some kind of mist... Oh, right, and I see tiny, iridescent pearls forming on the glass threads, just dropping to the ground like they're being produced out of thin air.