DX01: SINGULARITY 01854

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a massive, still-functional slaughterhouse somehow exists in the middle of this sprawling, barren salt flat, the air thick with the acrid smell of salt and gasoline... Like, the sky above is a pale, overcast gray, and the sun is obscured by a thick layer of clouds. A steady stream of what looks like neatly packaged, wrapped cuts of beef is somehow still pouring out of a totally rusted-out, partially crushed conveyor belt nearby, and the sound of creaking metal and crunching gravel fills the air. A mangled, upside-down carcass of a cow somehow hangs suspended from a hook, dripping a slow stream of blood onto the dry salt below.