DX01: SINGULARITY 41537

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Faint... starlight... seeps through an open, ornate observatory dome. Like, the sky's really pale, no... sun in sight... must be nighttime. Umm, ancient, dust-covered mirrors hang at every angle, somehow reflecting more constellations than I... know exist, like, alternate realities... layered over one another. Air's heavy, almost still, yet... somehow charged with ozone - my skin's prickling, hair's on end, damn it, Echo, hold on... gasp.