DX01: SINGULARITY 01435

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rainwater's collecting on the surface of a large, metal picnic table in the middle of a deserted rest stop on the side of a highway that's just... somehow looping back on itself in a perfect circle, like, the road's got no visible start or end point. Uh, the air's crisp, smells like wet earth and asphalt, and the only sounds are the raindrops hitting the table and the distant hum of an unseen engine. The sky's a uniform gray above, with no visible sun, and a bunch of wet, crumpled up fast food wrappers are blowing around the parking lot in the gentle breeze.