DX01: SINGULARITY 32354
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Bent, rusted satellite dishes cover the rooftop of a dilapidated, Brutalist-style television studio, like they're some kind of industrial barnacles. Umm, a sickly yellow haze hangs heavy in the humid air, weighing down everything, with a smell of stale cigarettes and overheated electronics... it's eerily still, like before a storm. In the studio itself, a seemingly endless loop of footage shows a raccoon solving a mirrored infinity room, the video feeds multiplying and iterating into a dizzying fractal that seems to be pulling the entire studio towards some kind of Klein bottle-like event horizon. The satellite dishes appear to be physically linked, as if they've grown tendrils that have connected to each other in mid-air.
