DX01: SINGULARITY 28322

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dry, cracked parking lot stretches out under the pale sunlight, the air's heavy with the smell of hot asphalt and ozone-free air. In the center, a blurry figure's slumped against the side of a beat-up old ice cream truck, its colorful paint faded and chipped, with part of the ancient Hanging Gardens of Babylon somehow seamlessly integrated into the truck's framework. Like, the truck's side panel just blends into ancient stone, and I guess that's me slumped against it, though I still can't make out any details. The sun's high in the sky, and the air's perfectly still.