DX01: SINGULARITY 34103

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dark, twisted vines are wrapped around the thick, concrete pillars that hold up the crumbling underside of a massive, abandoned highway overpass. Uh, a sea of dense, green-black mud coats the ground, and the still air's heavy with the smell of decaying leaves and the sound of steady, slow dripping echoes off the cold concrete. A faint, gray mist coats the underside of the overpass, somehow perfectly preserving the shadow of a massive oak tree that isn't actually there, like... its silhouette's just suspended in mid-air. Water's somehow slowly seeping upwards out of the mud.