DX01: SINGULARITY 02731

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Towering, yellow-painted grain silos rise up from the middle of a vast, empty parking lot, their rusty ladders and catwalks a deep reddish-brown from years of exposure to the elements. Umm, the air's really dry and still, smelling like hot asphalt and freshly cut grass, with the sun beating down on everything at a high angle, casting long shadows across the empty spaces. Water somehow flows upwards through the silos, spilling over the top and cascading back down in a continuous loop, despite there being no visible pumps or machinery to drive it. A lone seagull cries out in the distance.