DX01: SINGULARITY 34094

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tangled, barbed-wire fencing stretches across the cracked, sun-bleached surface of a dry lakebed, where dense clusters of sharp, rocky outcroppings seem to grow organically from the desiccated earth. Like, it's weird to see weathered, fiberglass sailboat hulls just half-submerged in the dusty lakebed, as if somehow simply left behind by an evaporating sea. Umm, the air's thick with the scent of ozone and dried algae, while an ear-piercingly sharp, ultrasonic whine echoes across the stillness, like the reverberations of some impossible, thousand-ton, tuning fork. Shattered remnants of countless vinyl records coat the dusty surface like shattered seashells.