DX01: SINGULARITY 33877

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frayed, khaki-colored canvas tarps cover an assortment of steam-powered engines, like... hulking metal beasts frozen mid-roar, on a worn, rickety wooden dock jutting into the edge of a dark, murky lagoon. The heavy air's saturated with the scent of damp coal and smoke, and the sound of creaking wooden beams beneath my feet carries through the oppressive stillness. A pair of battered, brass clock towers loom above, their intricate clockwork gears somehow synchronized with the sluggish flow of water beneath the dock. It's late afternoon, but the sun appears to be slowly submerging itself in the depths of the lagoon.