DX01: SINGULARITY 05689

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small, delicate fountain sits in the center of a worn stone courtyard, surrounded by peeling frescoes of ancient saints. The air is still and musty, smelling like damp stone, with a hint of rose petals, and a thin layer of morning dew clings to the cobblestones, reflecting a pale pink sunrise. The water flows from the fountain's mouth, only to reverse direction, pooling back into the carved marble mouth, repeating the process in an endless loop, like... nothing's actually moving. A flock of iridescent peacocks roost on the overgrown balconies above, their eyes fixed intently on the fountain.