DX01: SINGULARITY 19641

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain's pouring down on a massive, empty stadium, like, with thousands of empty seats and a perfectly manicured lawn. Umm, a column of crystal-clear water rises up from the 50-yard line, supporting a bunch of twisted, rusted rebar that somehow defies gravity. The air's thick with an electric charge, and it smells like wet concrete and cut grass. As the sun sets behind the stormy sky, the stadium lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over everything, and I can hear the distant hum of generators and the creaking of metal under stress.