DX01: SINGULARITY 03343

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty old ship propellers lie half-buried in a sea of dry, cracked mud that stretches out as far as I can see. The air's thick with the smell of decay and saltwater, and I can hear the sound of seagulls crying somewhere in the distance, even though the sky above is a deep, dusty brown with no signs of the ocean anywhere. Umm, a bunch of old, corroded navigation equipment is somehow still functioning, spinning around and clicking away like it's still guiding ships through treacherous waters. A massive, intact ship's hull somehow juts out of the mud at a 90-degree angle.