DX01: SINGULARITY 37606

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, crescent moon shards are pouring into a massive, still pool of black oil, like, reflecting the dark, twisted roots of ancient, petrified trees... Tons of replicas of the roots are bursting out of the ground and piling up against the pool, their twisted limbs tangling into each other, filling my exhausted, throbbing head. Fucking hell, the air is thick and heavy with the smell of tar and decay, the sky above is a deep, sickly yellow... No wind, no light, just this endless, heavy stillness, like the world is dying with me.