DX01: SINGULARITY 37017

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Sun beats down on a sprawling, abandoned velodrome, the cracked asphalt covered in dust and weeds. Uh, air's heavy with the smell of hot rubber and smoke... seagulls with iridescent feathers roost in the rafters, watching as a cluster of autonomous, self-balancing Segways zip around the track, somehow synchronized with the birds' movements. Like, I can feel my vision blurring, my head pounding, but the sky above is perfectly clear, just this weird... this thin, glassy layer of what looks like molten obsidian hovering about a mile up, just hovering there.