DX01: SINGULARITY 11357

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty farm equipment is scattered around a small, rural airfield, with old Cessna planes and a decommissioned control tower sitting silently in the still morning air. Umm, the smell of fuel and cut grass hangs heavy as I watch a single-engine plane somehow taxiing backwards into its own shadow, the propellers reversing direction to pull the plane into the dark outline like it's being swallowed. The air is humid and cool, with the sun just starting to peek over the horizon, casting long shadows across the deserted runway. Distant birdsong fills the air, and a light breeze rustles the tall grass.