DX01: SINGULARITY 33309

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark clouds writhe above a sprawling, derelict film studio, backlot sets decaying like the remnants of some fantastical, abandoned kingdom. Umm, the air reeks of rain, smoke, and mildew, heavy with anticipation, and the smell of wet canvas. Shafts of faint sunlight slice through the overcast, casting long shadows on the sets, while the sound of a solitary, unseen violin weaves in and out of the wind, echoing across the empty lots. Behind a ruined facade, the statue of a giant, mechanical, Aztec calendar appears to be slowly rewriting its own intricate carvings.