DX01: SINGULARITY 28192
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive, rusted, industrial-scale harvester somehow fills the interior of a colossal, hollowed-out sequoia tree, sunlight filtering through the trunk's openings as a still, motionless combine somehow blends seamlessly into the ancient wood. The air's crisp and dry, smelling like cut wheat... and it's like, around noon judging by the sun's position.
Uh, next to this, a perfectly normal-looking slice of a busy city street – buildings, streetlights, a still, motionless taxi – somehow exists on the bottom of the ocean, surrounded by motionless fish and, like, the wreckage of some old ship, I think. The streetlights are still on, somehow, casting an eerie glow over the dark seafloor.
