DX01: SINGULARITY 37565

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Fuck, a massive, underground repository of ancient, rusting industrial machinery stretches out in every direction, lit by this faint, flick-free fluorescent glow. Uh, air's thick with the smell of rust and motor oil, and it's humid, like... a constant, low-pressure system just hanging over everything. The ground's dry, cracked, but these... tendrils of what looks like dark, molten glass are seeping up through the cracks, just merging with the shadows like they're sentient, and the sound of grinding, metal on metal, is just echoing off the walls, despite nothing moving.