DX01: SINGULARITY 16315

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A half-destroyed, retro-futuristic research laboratory sprawls out, exposed wiring and mangled steel beams tangled with tendrils of what looks like... living fiber-optic cables. The air's thick with the acrid smell of burning plastic and the faint tang of seawater, like the lab's been partially submerged in the ocean at some point. Schools of bioluminescent fish swim through the wreckage, their glowing bodies illuminating pixelated 4chan thread projections that slide across the cracked walls, somehow generating an eerie, pulsating hum that's making my teeth ache. It's, uh, late afternoon, judging from the pale sunlight filtering through the mangled roof.