DX01: SINGULARITY 23986

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vast, abandoned parking garage stretches above, like it just goes on forever, with empty spaces marked by faded, yellow lines. Umm, the air's thick with this stale, concrete smell, and it's really humid... There's no wind at all, even though I can hear the distant sound of thunder outside, but somehow, birds are just perching on the support beams, singing in perfect, four-part harmony, like they're some kinda trained choir or something. Water's slowly dripping from the ceiling, forming puddles that seem to be reflecting a perfectly clear image of the Martian landscape.