DX01: SINGULARITY 02535

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Giant concrete blocks are stacked haphazardly in a massive, half-abandoned construction yard, their weathered surfaces cracked and worn. Like, the air's thick with the smell of damp concrete and diesel fuel, and there's a low hum of distant machinery rumbling through the area, though it's eerily quiet considering all the construction equipment just lying around. Water's seeping from cracks in the blocks and somehow freezing instantly into neat little ice cubes, which then roll down the inclined surfaces like they're on some sort of weird, perpetual conveyor belt. The sun's a pale, mid-morning blur through the cloudy sky.