DX01: SINGULARITY 12976

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, towering stone silos rise up from a sea of wheat, their weathered surfaces reflecting the pale yellow light of late afternoon. It's hot and dry, the air's thick with the scent of ripening grain and the constant rustling of the wheat in the breeze creates a soothing hum. Like, an old-fashioned, rickety wooden waterwheel somehow suspended high up in the sky, its massive wooden slats slowly creaking as it turns in the wind. Umm, the sound of gently flowing water fills the air, despite there being no visible water source anywhere.