DX01: SINGULARITY 37532

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, turquoise-tinted sunlight filters through an enormous, ornate stained glass ceiling, casting weird shadows on a seemingly endless series of mismatched, worn stone pedestals in some vast underground chamber... Air's dry and stale, making every labored breath a struggle – my lungs are killing me. Each pedestal supports a massive, leather-bound volume, some lying open, revealing intricate, hand-illuminated diagrams of orchids... I vaguely recall something about investigating some crash, or a pale yellow submarine, but my mind's a jumbled mess, and my body's shutting down – can't remember what I was doing, or why.