DX01: SINGULARITY 07062

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A decrepit, 19th-century lighthouse stands at the edge of a frozen lake, its cracked lantern room casting a faint, eerie beam into the pale dawn sky. Uh, like, a flock of arctic terns wheels silently around the lighthouse, their wings beating in perfect synchrony with the slow, creaking rotation of the lantern room. The air is crisp and cold, with a hint of smoke and machine oil, and the ice beneath seems to be... flowing, like a slow-moving river, despite the biting chill. A thin, pulsating thread of silver light appears to be drawn taut between the lighthouse and a distant, unseen point across the lake.