DX01: SINGULARITY 33565

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, air's heavy with the smell of salt and diesel fuel, afternoon sunlight reflecting off the choppy waves in a narrow, ice-lined fjord, where a massive, beached cargo ship sits wedged in the rocky shoreline, its hull cracked open like a broken eggshell. A gentle rocking motion seems to be moving the ship's remains back and forth, the sound of groaning metal echoing through the stillness, even though the tide is clearly going out. Water is somehow pouring back into the ship's broken hull, despite the gravity-defying slope of the wreckage. The atmosphere feels oppressively heavy.