DX01: SINGULARITY 06262

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A vast, empty parking garage stretches out in every direction, lit by flicker-free fluorescent tubes overhead, and the air's pretty still, smelling of gasoline and concrete. The sky outside the open walls shows a late afternoon sun hovering above the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty spaces. Like, a continuous stream of monarch butterflies just keeps pouring out from the crack of a solitary, closed parking space door, and they fly away calmly into the surrounding area. Uh, the painted-on parking space numbers seem to be rearranging themselves, like they're shuffling around every few seconds.