DX01: SINGULARITY 39766

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shards of pale, frost-encrusted wood are slowly reassembling into a... a sail, I think, on the edge of a perfectly still, dark lake. Umm, the air's crisp, with this sharp smell of fresh wood and... like, ozone, sorta. The sky above is a swirling mix of indigo and crimson, and I can feel this heavy, pulsating vibration through the soles of my shoes. The mast of the sail is somehow piercing through the center of a massive, hovering crystal that's not even touching the water's surface.