DX01: SINGULARITY 37596
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Goddamn it... Dark water rushes over my feet, umm, like, it's filling a massive, stone-lined baptismal font or some shit, in the middle of a... a frozen tundra, surrounded by nothing but endless snow and ice. The air's biting, like, seriously cold, and there's this constant, low hum of machinery coming from somewhere beneath the surface of the font, echoing off the frozen wasteland. Above me, the sky is a deep, foreboding grey, with these, uh, duplicates of crescent moons - like, five, six, ten of them, stacked on top of each other, overlapping and replicating, making my already-exhausted brain spin... and spilling duplicates of themselves into the goddamn font, which is somehow not overflowing.
