DX01: SINGULARITY 07395

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A worn, chrome-plated diner sits in the middle of a vast, arid salt flat, its booth windows reflecting the pale blue sky like a dozen tiny mirrors. Like, the air's super hot and still, and it smells of gasoline and overcooked bacon. Umm, a swarm of iridescent butterflies somehow maintains a perfect whirlpool shape as it surrounds the diner, their wings creating this weird, soothing hum that's almost... musical, despite the fact that none of them seem to be flapping their wings. The diner's neon sign, reading 'Mirage', flickers to life despite being totally unpowered.