DX01: SINGULARITY 02547

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Massive, rusted hulks of what look like Soviet-era submarines are half-buried in the sand, somehow... on the surface of Mars, like, surrounded by crimson rock formations. The air's thin and the sky's this sickly yellow color, with a weak sun hanging low in the horizon. Um, a couple of the subs have what appears to be functioning ballast tanks, somehow inflating and deflating like they're trying to stabilize themselves, and I can smell the faint tang of diesel fuel and grease in the chilly, thin air. The only sound's the steady wind rustling through the Martian dust.