DX01: SINGULARITY 20745

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Late afternoon sunlight casts an orange glow over the densely packed, rusting carcasses of hundreds of discarded, mid-century satellite dishes, stretching across the barren, salt-encrusted lakebed. Umm, the air's thick with the scent of dry earth, salt, and something vaguely metallic. The hum of an unseen, still-active, RT-28 Sickle ICBM guidance system crackles through the air, amidst the dishes a series of ancient Sabaean, south Arabian inscriptions seem to be somehow shifting and rearranging themselves on a large stone slab. Water trickles upwards from the parched earth, collecting in small crystal clear pools that mirror the pale sky above.