DX01: SINGULARITY 23411

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tattered, plastic bags are scattered all over a massive, abandoned supermarket's parking lot, and the air's super still, like there's no wind at all. Umm, the smell of rotting vegetables and burned motor oil hangs heavy, and the sky above is a sickly yellow haze. A low-frequency hum's emanating from the empty shopping carts, somehow syncing up with the ticking sound of the flicking fluorescent lights that aren't even working, yet they're still making that noise. The bags on the ground are somehow moving by themselves, crawling towards the entrance of the store like they're being pulled by some unseen force.