DX01: SINGULARITY 06927

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A blood-soaked, retro-futuristic slaughterhouse lies before me, its steel walls and machinery now mangled and smeared with entrails, somehow eerily silent amidst the stench of rot and decay. The air's heavy with the smell of death, thick with the buzz of flies as they swarm the hanging, fiber-optic ravens, their twitching synchronized with the flicker of auction prices on a massive screen displaying an OpenSea NFT sale. Um, outside, it's snowing upwards, with flakes somehow defying gravity, suspended mid-air like they're stuck in an unseen vortex. The ravens' silhouettes seem to be etched into the walls by an unseen force.