DX01: SINGULARITY 40483

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a thick, concrete highway stretches out into the distance, covered in cracks and potholes, the pale sunlight reflecting off the dark grey surface. The air's pretty dry, with a hint of diesel fumes, and it's completely still, no wind or anything. Like, the remains of a tractor-trailer are sprawled out, the cab half-severed from the trailer, but somehow the truck's still slowly moving down the road, its tires making a weird, crunching noise as it goes, even though there's no engine or wheels left. The smell of burned rubber hangs heavy over everything.