DX01: SINGULARITY 31727

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarled tree roots burst out of the sand, supporting what looks like an old, wooden puppet theater, half-buried in the dunes. Umm... Heavy drapes hang still in the entrance, partially hiding intricate wooden marionettes that seem to be in mid-performance, frozen in a scene of some eerie, medieval fairy tale. It's pouring rain upward from the ground, soaking the drapes but somehow not the marionettes, while the air is heavy with the scent of old wood and dust. The sun hangs motionless just above the horizon, a deep red color like embers.