DX01: SINGULARITY 34096

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A twisted, centuries-old cypress tree grows directly out of the center of a massive, decrepit, wooden carousel, its branches tangled through the rusty support beams and colorful, hand-painted horses. Uh, the air's heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying wood, and pale sunlight filters through a thin layer of fog that coats everything. Like, the sound of creaking wood and shattering glass echoes through the stillness as the carousel slowly rotates, despite the fact that it's clearly been abandoned for decades. The tree's roots somehow seem to be powering the carousel's slow, jerky movements.