DX01: SINGULARITY 24869

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A sleek, chrome-plated escalator stretches down into the darkness of a massive, underground parking garage, umm, the air is stale and smells like gasoline. Fluorescent lights above cast an uneven glow over rows of crushed and abandoned cars, some with screens still scrolling through eBay listings for rare car parts. In the distance, a mangled drone is somehow repairing itself with a welding torch, while a cracked iPhone screen still somehow attached to its mangled casing displays a /biz/ thread discussing Elon Musk's latest Neuralink updates, and the sky outside, visible through a small ventilation shaft, is still that weird shade of bright purple.