DX01: SINGULARITY 03337

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: It's, like, really cold and the air is still... a large section of a commercial kitchen just sits in the middle of a snow-covered mountain meadow, complete with stainless steel countertops and industrial refrigerators. Umm, the sky above is a pale blue, and I can smell the faint scent of grease and frozen food. A steady stream of perfectly toasted bread slices is somehow ejecting from a toaster on the counter, piling up in a neat stack that's slowly getting buried in the falling snow.