DX01: SINGULARITY 09640

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Like, shattered glass and rusting metal scraps litter the concrete floor of some kind of abandoned, Soviet-era cosmodrome, the remnants of a crashed rocket or spaceship scattered everywhere. Umm, a massive, intact fuel tank lies on its side, covered in faded, peeling paint, with water somehow flowing upwards out of the tank's empty fuel ports and spilling across the concrete, where it collects into weird, organic patterns. The air's thick with a heavy, acrid smell and there's this intense, static charge, like the atmosphere's ionized or something. The sky above is this pale, serene blue.