DX01: SINGULARITY 05187

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rotted wooden beams hold up a partially collapsed slaughterhouse, its metal machinery rusted and clogged with decaying animal remains. The air is heavy with the stench of rot and death, and an eerie silence hangs over everything despite it being midday with the sun high in the sky. Flies buzz around the carcasses, but they're not landing, instead hovering just out of reach as if being repelled by an invisible force. Umm, the sound of dripping blood is coming from somewhere, but it's not falling, just accumulating in mid-air.