DX01: SINGULARITY 18955

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sunlight's streaming in through the grimy windows of this rundown diner, casting a warm glow on the vinyl booths. Umm, the air's got a thick, greasy smell like the fryer's been on non-stop, and it's making my stomach growl. On the counter, an endless loop of a Vine compilation is somehow playing on a tiny, embedded screen, and a half-eaten plate of fries is just... sitting next to it, like someone just got up and left. Outside, a bird's trying to fly with what looks like a miniature shopping cart somehow stuck to its leg.