DX01: SINGULARITY 41578

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shattered mirrors scattered across... what looks like a really long, empty bowling lane... umm, no pins. The air's really thick and smells like gasoline and fresh tar. This lane stretches on forever, lit by an impossibly high setting sun... its bottom is curved around the horizon like the world is a bowl... just vanishes... there's no... sound...

My vision's starting to distort... uh... and these glass shards on the... uh, just begin reassembling into perfect, complete mirrors. Echo, hang on... need to keep going... just, not done yet...