DX01: SINGULARITY 32052
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusted hulks of old shipping containers sprawl across a seemingly endless, dusty expanse of scrubby desert landscape, like... the remains of some forgotten logistics nightmare. In the distance, a decrepit, half-buried Ferris wheel creaks and groans in the stiff breeze, its seats long since blown away, leaving behind a haunting latticework silhouette against the fading light of dusk. A low-pressure system seems to be brewing on the horizon, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and smoke, the atmosphere crackling with static electricity. Uh, tiny, bioluminescent ants somehow spell out the phrase "HOT DOG KING" in eerie, flickering letters across the dusty ground.
