DX01: SINGULARITY 37587

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shit, crystalline stalactites are somehow growing out of the underside of a massive, stone Buddha, like, into the cold air that's heavy with the scent of incense and wet earth. Uh, everything's reflected in every damn surface – including the Buddha's face, which is now staring back at me from every angle, its expression serene but its eyes... open, and spilling out replicas of themselves into the surrounding air, and my own damn mind. The sky above is this pale, silvery gray, and the sun's not even visible anymore – I think it's already below the horizon. Fucking hell...