DX01: SINGULARITY 32835

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty, abandoned Ferris wheel seats swing lazily in the breeze on a deserted, beachside amusement park, like the wind's trying to rock them to sleep. The humid air reeks of saltwater and stale funnel cake grease, the smell wafting heavily over worn, wooden boardwalk planks that stretch into a thick, gray fog rolling off the ocean. Uh, as seagulls wheel overhead, I notice that the wooden planks somehow seamlessly blend into what appears to be living, twisted coral at the water's edge, and this seems perfectly normal here. Stars are shining through the fog.