DX01: SINGULARITY 36542

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A thin layer of fine dust coats an abandoned velodrome, like, no tracks or signs of bikes, though. The air is dry, almost crisp, with no wind whatsoever. Outside, I hear muffled echoes that sound suspiciously like distant artillery fire, but somehow it doesn't seem to reverberate at all through the metal latticework of the stadium's dome – a large patch of which has somehow neatly folded itself inwards without any apparent distortion or seams, just hanging limply.