DX01: SINGULARITY 02569

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's filtering through a bunch of tiny, grimy skylights above, casting a weak glow on a huge collection of vintage, still-operating, coin-operated laundry machines in a dusty, massive room... Like, there's a strong smell of stale air and old fabric softener sheets wafting up from the machines, and for some reason, every time a cycle finishes, the washing machine's door just opens by itself and perfectly folded, steaming-hot clothes spill out onto the floor. In the corner of the room, a dripping faucet somehow creates a steady, unending stream of perfectly rounded, crystal-clear ice cubes that just keep piling up in a huge, precarious-looking mountain.