DX01: SINGULARITY 06610

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Half-buried in the cracked, dry earth of a massive, barren canyon, a bunch of beat-up, old, chrome-plated diner cars sit in a row, covered in fine dust. Umm, air's super still, and the sun's directly overhead, making the metal exteriors really hot to the touch. Each car's got these little, built-in turntables playing really old vinyl records, but like... the sound's being absorbed by the canyon itself somehow, so there's complete silence. Thin tendrils of steam rise from the dry soil beneath the cars, like the ground's somehow releasing water, but the air's too dry for that to make sense.