DX01: SINGULARITY 36028

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered, concrete skateboard ramps sprawl like, across an entire, drained-out Olympic-sized pool, seagulls perched along the coping, pecking at discarded fast food trash. A low, hazy mist hangs heavy over everything, smelling strongly of diesel exhaust, while the late afternoon sun beats down, warming the pavement. Suddenly, one of the ramps seamlessly shifts into an escalator, slowly moving upwards, its smooth operation eerily silent as seagulls glide along it, totally unphased. My injuries throb and I feel my vision starting to blur from the relentless fatigue.