DX01: SINGULARITY 18661

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, twisted steel beams lie mangled and tangled on the rocky seashore, the air thick with salt spray and the stench of decaying seaweed. Like, a whole friggin' cargo ship is buried half in the beach, with crumpled, rusty car chassis spilling out, and these thick, greasy cables somehow run from the wreck straight into the nearby rocks, pulsating with a gentle, steady thrum. Umm, it's overcast, but not quite raining yet, with dark storm clouds rolling in on the horizon. A perfect, symmetrical whirlpool spins steadily in the water offshore, maybe fifty feet across, never wobbling or breaking form.