DX01: SINGULARITY 40220

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shafts of sunlight cut through the rippling, iridescent surface of some immense, oil-slick-like membrane suspended above... a parking lot, I guess, filled with hundreds of sleek, silver bullet trains instead of cars. Umm, the air's crisp, with a faint tang of citrus, and it's eerily still – no wind, no movement, just an oppressive sense of calm. The sky above is a sickly pale yellow, and what looks like the faint image of Dogecoin's Shiba Inu is emblazoned across the sun, like a sunspot or something. My vision's getting a little hazy; my body feels like it's been run over...