DX01: SINGULARITY 05572

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, massive, rough-hewn stone pedestals are scattered across a seemingly endless, white salt flat, each one topped with an impossibly precise, working replica of some ancient orrery, like, with tiny, moving metal spheres representing planets and moons. The air's super hot and dry, but it smells like someone just poured a bottle of champagne everywhere. A bunch of wild, metallic vines are snaking across the salt, somehow pumping a thick, syrupy liquid that's collecting in a series of shallow, mirror-finish pools. The sun's directly overhead, not a cloud in sight.