DX01: SINGULARITY 40320

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Grey-brown dust devils dance across a barren, cracked lake bed, under a pale blue sky with the sun sitting low on the horizon. Air's dry and hot, with this acrid smell, like ozone, but... sweeter, and it's making my eyes water. In the center of the lake bed, a massive, ornate temple dedicated to some long-forgotten Mesopotamian deity is slowly rising from the ground, no visible means of support, its walls covered in cuneiform script that's somehow shifting, rearranging itself. Uh, I'm seriously struggling to keep my eyes open, like my vision's blurring...