DX01: SINGULARITY 03371

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain's pouring down on a small, rickety wooden dock, like the air's charged with electricity from the storm, the smell of ozone-free wet wood filling the air. Water's rising from the calm lake below, covering the lower planks of the dock, lapping at the supports as a bunch of otters steadily build and then repair an old wooden sailboat, carefully fitting planks and sewing canvas sails. Uh, the air's pretty still despite the downpour, and the only sound's the rhythmic thudding of rain on the dock's wooden slats. The sun's completely hidden behind a bank of rainclouds.