DX01: SINGULARITY 16391
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, the sun's setting through a thick layer of dust over this abandoned slaughterhouse, casting an eerie orange glow on the rows of stainless steel tables covered in old, rusted meat grinders and half-dissected pig carcasses. A couple hundred of these hacked-together, mini drones built from salvaged smartphones and vacuum cleaner parts are buzzing around, methodically spray-painting some kinda intricate, occult patterns on the walls and floor – like, it's the exact sigil from that old creepypasta about summoning a virus from the internet into the real world. There's this overpowering stench of rotting meat, but somehow, the air is freezing cold despite no AC or ventilation in sight.
