DX01: SINGULARITY 07539
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shafts of mid-afternoon sunlight filter through an array of stained-glass panels above, illuminating a sprawling, half-abandoned velodrome somehow embedded in the trunk of a gargantuan, fossilized tree. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of damp earth and decaying wood, and the stillness is punctuated by the creaking of rusty bike frames scattered across the velodrome's surface. Like, the sky above seems to be shifting between different hues of indigo and violet, like the colors are cycling through some weird, perpetual gradient. Water flows upwards from the center of the track, forming a continuous, gleaming cylinder that supports a delicate latticework of crystal shards.
