DX01: SINGULARITY 11352

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain pounds down on the sleek, obsidian-black hood of a sports car, somehow parked on the uneven, rocky terrain of a rugged coastline at low tide. Umm... waves are splashing against the wheels as the air's thick with the smell of salt and the sound of seagulls crying overhead, and this bright, pulsing glow is coming from inside the car's cabin, like the dashboard is running some kind of LED display of the Qabalistic Cross. The sports car's somehow... buried in the rock, with layers of dark, volcanic stone seamlessly molded around its chassis like it's been there for millennia.