DX01: SINGULARITY 03341

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Razor-sharp sunlight cuts through a layer of dusty glass above, casting an eerie grid pattern on a collection of rusting, early 20th-century farm equipment. Umm, the air's heavy with the smell of damp earth and decaying plants. Like, the silence is almost deafening except for the soft hum of a diesel generator somewhere outside, and for some reason, a section of the farm equipment - an old plow, I think - is somehow perfectly embedded inside a massive, crystal-like growth that's slowly expanding, pushing the metal apart like it's clay. The air's stale and still.