DX01: SINGULARITY 20106

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Half-destroyed, Aztec-inspired stone statues are scattered across a cracked, dusty tennis court, with a functioning, ancient astronomical clock somehow integrated into the scoreboard. The air's heavy with the smell of dry soil and hot asphalt, and it's really still, except for the sound of a steady, pulsing hum like a far-off generator. Uh, the statues seem to be slowly changing, their carvings shifting to depict different constellations, and the sky above is a pale, washed-out blue, with the sun stuck at what looks like perpetual noon. Like, the tennis net is somehow made of iridescent, pulsing energy.