DX01: SINGULARITY 05234

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a mangled, chromed-out motorcycle somehow protrudes from the middle of a hollowed-out, ancient baobab tree, its trunk thick and twisted, with these gnawed-on, ivory tusks scattered around the base. The air's heavy with the scent of gasoline and burnt rubber, and the sunlight shining through the tree's empty core casts this eerie, shifting pattern on the ground. Like, the sky above is a deep, rich blue, and the motorcycle's exhaust pipe is somehow embedded in the tree's roots, still rumbling and spitting out flames, just burning steadily, fuelless and unattended.