DX01: SINGULARITY 32698

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, gothic-style lampposts lean precariously, like skeletal fingers, over a long-abandoned railway yard. A thin, constant drizzle of water seeps from the grey clouds above, shrouding everything in a misty veil, while the stillness is only broken by the faint creaking of rusty freight carriages. Umm, ahead, a tangle of thick, thorny vines somehow wraps around a massive, still-turning Ferris wheel, like it's trying to drag it down into the earth, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and ozone. A steady hum emanates from an old calliope organ lodged in a carriage.