DX01: SINGULARITY 18384

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Turbulent stormwater churns in every direction beneath a dilapidated, gilded bridge suspended high above by dozens of frayed, silken threads that look like they've been eaten away by something. Umm, the air's got this pungent smell, like ozone, but sweeter... and I can feel an electric charge building up on my skin, like a storm's about to break. Water's gathering into perfectly spherical droplets on the underside of the bridge's rusty support latticework, somehow not dripping or falling, just staying there. A cold wind stirs, whistling through the silken threads like a soft glass harmonica.