DX01: SINGULARITY 26766

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small, isolated research station sits in the middle of Antarctica, the mid-morning sun peeking just above the horizon, casting long shadows across the icy terrain. Uh, the air's pretty crisp, really cold, smells like fuel and... something like burning plastic, Echo. One of the snowcats is just moving back and forth between two points, like it's stuck in a routine, its tracks perfectly straight, never veering off course, even though there's no visible fuel or anyone controlling it. Inside the station, I can hear the steady hum of a backup generator kicking in, despite the solar panels clearly receiving sunlight.