DX01: SINGULARITY 11249

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain pours down from a dense, slate-gray sky, drumming against the corrugated metal roof of an abandoned aircraft factory. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of wet aluminum and aviation fuel, and there's an almost palpable electric charge that's making the hairs on my arms stand up. A vintage helicopter, somehow half-buried in the concrete floor, has vines and creepers snaking out of its rotors as if they're growing from the metal itself. The sound of running water echoes from within its cockpit, despite the surrounding environment being completely dry.