DX01: SINGULARITY 09638

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, wisps of silver-tipped cirrus clouds drift across a pale, porcelain moon, its surface somehow etched with cuneiform script, hanging low in a midnight-blue sky. The air's thick with a heavy, honey-like scent and the sound of slow, labored breathing echoes across a barren, crystalline plain, the ground crunching beneath an unseen force. Water flows upwards from tiny fissures in the crystal, collecting into delicate, lace-like patterns that somehow hold their shape against gravity. The air's really still, with a faint electric charge that's making my skin prickle...