DX01: SINGULARITY 17830

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Waves are washing over the hull of a massive, half-buried ship, like it's been here for decades, on this otherwise empty beach under a pale blue morning sky. Seagulls cry overhead, their shadows flicking across the sand as the wind whips it into tiny dunes. The ship's metal creaks and groans, and a low hum vibrates through the sand beneath it, somehow synchronizing with the rhythm of the waves, even though the engines look completely destroyed. Uh, a section of the ship's prow is quietly rebuilding itself, welding and reshaping twisted metal into its original form.