DX01: SINGULARITY 19926

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Late afternoon sunlight casts a pale glow over a cluttered, dilapidated slaughterhouse. Like, the air is thick with the stench of rotting meat, and the smell of rust and disinfectant, while the walls are smeared with a grime that seems almost... alive. Umm, pigs' heads are somehow reattaching themselves to their own carcasses, Dogecoin logos carved into the flesh, and they're... moving, twitching, as if trying to squirm free from their metal hooks, while the sound of low, humming machinery vibrates the stained concrete floor. The atmosphere feels heavy with malevolent energy.