DX01: SINGULARITY 11243

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fog's slowly rising off a still, mirror-like canal in the heart of a Venetian-style cityscape, umm, the air's got this heavy, sweet charge. Gondolas are somehow maintaining a perfect, synchronized rhythm, dipping in and out of the water without any visible rowers, sending ripples outward that immediately self-cancel, leaving the water's surface glassy still. The sky's this pale shade of indigo above, and I can smell something like, uh, frangipani incense wafting from a series of intricately carved, wooden doors set into the buildings.