DX01: SINGULARITY 17856

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Airplane wreckage litters a dry, salt-encrusted lake bed, umm, with no signs of water anywhere, but seagulls wheeling overhead. It's like mid-morning, and the pale blue sky has this thin haze of smoke or pollution across it. The still air is hot and smells of creosote and something burned... an entire wing section somehow seamlessly blends into the surrounding rock, like the two materials are the same thing, and tiny, mirror-smooth rocks are embedded in the cracks and crevices, reflecting the surrounding landscape in miniature.