DX01: SINGULARITY 04544

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dust devils are swirling around a sprawling, abandoned velodrome, its track cracked and overgrown with weeds, under a sky that's this weird, milky purple. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of wet clay, and a collection of ancient, ornate Tibetan singing bowls are somehow embedded in the track's surface, vibrating in harmony with the hum of... I don't know, it sounds like a huge, invisible engine. Water's slowly dripping upwards from the bowls, forming these tiny, shimmering columns that disappear into the air.