DX01: SINGULARITY 06073

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Crystalline stalactites hang like a thousand tiny swords from the vaulted ceiling of an ancient, ruined cathedral, their facets reflecting the pale, diffuse light of a perpetual twilight that seems to seep from the stone itself. Uh, the air's heavy with the scent of old incense and something... metallic, I guess, and it's got this weird, almost electric charge that makes my skin prickle. Water's seeping upwards through the stone floor, pooling around the bases of a series of impossible, non-Euclidean statues that seem to have more than four sides. It's dead still, not a breath of air moving anywhere.