DX01: SINGULARITY 30977

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rough-hewn concrete pillars rise from the dry, cracked earth, supporting the rusting hulk of a massive, abandoned water treatment facility, half-buried in a sea of dusty, overgrown scrubland. Umm, the air's thick with the scent of ozone and algae, and a low hum – like the reverberation of a distant engine – vibrates through the stillness, as a slow trickle of oil seeps upwards from the cracked concrete into a series of twisted, corroded pipes. Above, a hazy, mid-morning sun beats down, casting long shadows in the dusty scrub. Oil somehow pours uphill back into a half-empty storage tank.