DX01: SINGULARITY 07748

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, crystal stalagmites are rising from the center of a vast, circular racetrack, their facets reflecting the pale light of a crescent moon hanging low in the sky. The air's thick with the smell of burned rubber, and the sound of screeching tires echoes through the stillness, even though there are no cars in sight. The track itself seems to be made of some kind of liquid silver that's flowing in a continuous loop, like... it's regenerating itself as I watch. In the distance, a glowing chequered flag appears to be pulling the crystal stalagmites towards it, defying gravity.