DX01: SINGULARITY 26736

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered satellite dishes are sprouting from the sand on a desolate beach, Echo. Umm, it's got this weird post-apocalyptic vibe going on, but somehow the air smells like saltwater and bubblegum. A mangled, giant PlayStation controller lies half-buried, with seagulls perched on its joysticks, while a cryptic message "Glint Psalm 7:1" is etched into the shore. The still air is charged with this weird electric tension that's making the hairs on my arms stand up.