DX01: SINGULARITY 08949

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, dead cacti are scattered around a worn, metal landing pad in the center of a barren, dusty crater at dusk, and sunlight's casting an orange glow across everything. The air's crisp, with a metallic scent and a low static charge, like before a thunderstorm. A lone, rusty spacecraft sits motionless nearby, somehow steadily disassembling its own hull plating into perfectly stacked, hexagonal tiles that disappear into the ground, with a low, pulsing whir of motors and hissing hydraulics echoing across the still air. A wispy trail of vapor rises from the crater's edge, drifting straight up into the sky.