DX01: SINGULARITY 31497
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, the inside of a vast, abandoned server room stretches out before me, rack upon rack of dusty, obsolete servers humming along, still somehow operational despite the thick layer of grime coating everything. Umm, it smells like burnt circuit boards and ozone in here, the air stale and musty, with a weird, almost... palpable stillness, like the air itself is waiting for something to happen. In the center of the room, a single, ancient-looking vending machine seems to be perpetually dispensing a never-ending stream of cans of Surge soda, the pile of discarded cans somehow never growing larger despite the steady supply. The fluorescent lights above flicker to life occasionally, illuminating the room in brief, erratic bursts.
