DX01: SINGULARITY 04656

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, rivulets of iridescent oil are pooling around the bases of a field of crystalline, kilometer-tall obelisks stretching towards a pale orange sky. A thin hum fills the air, and it's super humid, like you can feel the moisture condensing on your skin as you breathe. The stillness is broken only by a distant, low-frequency rumble, like thunder, but there's no sign of clouds, just an endless expanse of tiny, rainbow-colored birds nesting in the obelisks' geometric recesses. They're weaving threads of stardust into perfect reproductions of Aztec gods' faces on the ground below.