DX01: SINGULARITY 02950

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti tags cover the sides of worn-out rail cars on an abandoned train, like some sort of metal serpent slithering through the darkness of a seemingly endless cave. Umm, it smells heavily of damp earth, mildew, and... diesel, again. The air is stale, but somehow a faint hum, almost like a Tibetan singing bowl, seems to be resonating from the very walls themselves, creating a low, constant vibration beneath my feet. One of the train cars is somehow seamlessly merged with a 19th-century séance cabinet, ornate symbols etched into its rusted metal side.