DX01: SINGULARITY 17164

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dilapidated, graffiti-covered highway overpass looms above, casting a long, ominous shadow on the cracked asphalt beneath. Umm, air's thick with the smell of fresh rain and ozone-free exhaust fumes, and it's pretty humid in here, judging by the fog creeping in from the nearby river. Like, a battered Twitter logo somehow merged with the shattered concrete, pulsating with a gentle blue light in perfect sync with the soft hum of the overpass. Water's still dripping from the girders, and the sky's a dull gray, suggesting it's probably late morning.