DX01: SINGULARITY 09982
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered skateboard ramps are stretching out under a blindingly bright, clear blue sky, surrounded by a sprawl of abandoned, overgrown tennis courts. The air's thick with the smell of fresh-cut grass and hot asphalt, and it's charged with an electric, pre-thunderstorm tension that's making the hairs on my arms stand up, like... somehow connected to the shifting constellations etched into the ramps' surface. A miniature, iridescent tornado is calmly hovering near the ramp's lip, slowly pulling in nearby debris and condensing it into tiny, crystalline shards that reflect fragments of the qliphoth from the Kabbalistic Tree of Death. Umm, the sun's high in the sky.
