DX01: SINGULARITY 24250

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tendrils of frost are creeping across the surface of a sprawling, abandoned highway, like, somehow merging with the asphalt and creating this weird, glass-like material that's reflecting the pale blue light of a distant aurora borealis. The air is still, with a heavy electric charge that's making the frost stand on end, and it smells like wet stone. Seagulls are perched on the road signs, preening their feathers as wisps of fog curl upwards and somehow form miniature portals that are pulling in wisps of fog from other areas, and, uh, the highway just drops off a cliff into empty space about a mile down the road.