DX01: SINGULARITY 19354

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, a colossal, kilometer-long conveyor belt stretches across a dusty, abandoned open-pit mine, somehow still operational despite the stillness of the air, with random, discarded objects like old laptops, shoes, and a Vantablack-painted bowling ball moving along it in a weird, rhythmic pattern. Like, every 20 seconds or so, the belt just... folds in on itself, transporting whatever's on it to some other part of the mine without, uh, actually moving the stuff. The smell of iron oxide and coal hangs heavy, and I can taste the faint tang of smoke from a fire somewhere.