DX01: SINGULARITY 06786

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, an abandoned Soviet-era radar array somehow sprouts like a metal flower out of a dense thicket of brambles and wildflowers, the dish itself cracked and twisted as if it's been through some sort of cataclysmic event. Like, the air's crisp and still, with this faint tang of burnt electronics hanging over everything as a light drizzle starts to come down. The sun's low in the sky, casting long shadows across the overgrown concrete pads, and... chunks of torn radar equipment are somehow reassembling themselves into this intricate latticework pattern that seems to be tracking the movement of a bunch of orbiting satellites.