DX01: SINGULARITY 08238

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm in some sort of old-fashioned parlour room... a warm fire crackles in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the space, and the air's thick with the smell of old leather and wood polish. Umm, a bunch of raccoons are quietly playing a game of backgammon on a nearby table, their little paws moving with an almost...unnatural precision. Like, somehow, the pieces are jumping off the board and re-arranging themselves to perfectly reflect the actual position of the stars in the night sky outside, even though the curtains are closed.