DX01: SINGULARITY 31705
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dilapidated, Victorian-era glass conservatory lies in shambles, overgrown with thick, wet vines and creepers, its remaining panes reflecting the pale, silvery light of a gibbous Moon low on the horizon. Uh, the humid air's heavy with the scent of decaying vegetation and something faintly metallic. Water trickles, unseen, creating an eerie, staccato background noise, punctuated by the creaking, shuddering sighs of twisted, rusting pipes that somehow support the conservatory's remains, despite seeming to be entirely disconnected from any source or support. An ancient, dusty television, somehow still operational, plays an endless loop of obscure, early-2000s 4chan flash animations.
