DX01: SINGULARITY 26062

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tattered, multi-colored prayer flags hang still in the air, tied between rusty metal lamp posts that illuminate a small, rundown bus station. Like, it's really cold and dry here, the smell of diesel fuel and old leather hangs heavy in the air. Umm, there's a worn-out sign that reads 'SANTIAGO'S STOP - Route 14' and buses just... fade into and out of existence, their sounds of arrival and departure instantaneously silenced, but somehow the sounds of murmuring passengers continue even when the buses aren't there. Sunlight's casting an orange glow, like late afternoon.