DX01: SINGULARITY 01208

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain pounds against the rusty hull of a massive submarine somehow beached in the middle of a vast, dry wheat field, its propellers jammed into the earth like they've been there forever. The air's got a weird, heavy feeling, like the pressure's really high, and it smells of wet soil and diesel fuel. Schools of minnows dart and weave through the wheat stalks, chasing after scraps of bread somehow constantly falling from the sky. Above, the sun's hidden behind a thick layer of grey clouds, casting this dull, flat light over everything.