DX01: SINGULARITY 37556

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fuck, it's some kind of rural gas station at dusk, the air's heavy with the smell of diesel fuel and grease... There's a solitary, ancient payphone stuck to the side of the building, and this huge, twisted piece of metal wreckage from a semi-truck or something is just lying nearby, no signs of a crash or anything, it's like it was placed here on purpose. The sky's getting darker, uh, the stars are already coming out, but... somehow the clock on the gas station sign says it's 2:47 PM. My vision's getting all blurry, everything's just... spinning.