DX01: SINGULARITY 31903

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cracked, old porcelain toilets sit on rickety wooden platforms high above a serene, moonlit lake, their pipes somehow connecting to giant, twisted cattails. The air is cool and misty, with a subtle, sweet scent of blooming flowers and damp soil, and the only sound is a low, soft lapping of water against the shore. Umm, it looks like those pipes are actually pulling water upwards, back into the toilets. The surrounding trees seem to be leaning away from the platforms, like they're being pushed back by some unseen force.