DX01: SINGULARITY 24857

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm looking at a grimy, industrial pigsty, the air reeking of manure, decay, and gasoline, with the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the concrete floor. A tangled mass of discarded fiber-optic cables and crushed drones is somehow being manipulated by a pair of giant, mechanical claws, like, they're being coiled into a massive, industrial sculpture. A pig's carcass is splayed across the floor, its flesh slowly being devoured by a swarm of micro-drones that seem to be converting its body into a tangled, crystalline structure. The air is thick with the stench of rot and exhaust.