DX01: SINGULARITY 35992

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Water falls slowly down the facade of a worn, concrete grain elevator, like, seeping into cracks and crevices, creating dark, uneven streaks. The air's heavy with a musty, slightly sweet smell, umm, probably from all the old grain, and I can taste a faint tang on my tongue. Inside, somehow, a few dozen motorcycles are stacked vertically on top of each other, perfectly balanced, still and silent, without any support or rack system. My chest hurts, I'm running low on breath...