DX01: SINGULARITY 05824

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tons of splintered wooden crates are stacked haphazardly around the interior of a massive, rusting lighthouse, the air thick with the smell of saltwater and diesel fuel. Umm, a slow-moving, iridescent slick of oil is spreading across the concrete floor, reflecting the pale sunlight filtering in through the grimy lantern room above. The air's heavy with the sound of screeching seagulls, but like, somehow they're all just outside - the air inside is still and silent, except for this steady, pulsating creak of the lighthouse's metal structure... that's somehow slowly unscrewing itself from the rocky foundation.