DX01: SINGULARITY 18697

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty farm equipment lies scattered across the cracked earth of a long-abandoned rural airstrip, overgrown with tall grass and weeds. Uh, a World War I-era biplane, its wooden frame half-rotten, somehow continues to spin a single, worn propeller at a slow, methodical pace, despite the absence of any visible engine or power source. The air's thick with the scent of gasoline and damp soil as a light drizzle falls from a pale, featureless sky. The stillness is only broken by the creaking of old metal and the distant hum of... something.