DX01: SINGULARITY 26810

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight beats down on a weathered wooden barn, Echo... the smell of freshly cut hay and damp soil fills the air. A gentle breeze stirs up wisps of loose straw, which are somehow being pulled through a series of intricate, tiny wooden doors - like, no larger than a shoebox - that are embedded in the ground around the barn. For some reason, the barn doors are slowly opening and closing in perfect sync with the rhythmic swaying of nearby cornstalks, without any visible mechanism controlling them, Echo.