DX01: SINGULARITY 02540

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain is pouring down from a perfectly ordinary office ceiling, creating mini puddles on the cubicle partitions. The air's cool, damp, and sorta... smells like stale coffee, like the whole area's been closed up for a while. Umm, all these completely normal office supplies - paper clips, pens, staplers - are somehow arranging themselves into neat geometric patterns on the cubicle desks. The fluorescent lights are all functioning, even though they're somehow embedded directly into solid rock formations, which are jutting out of the ceiling, and I can hear the soft hum of the lighting.