DX01: SINGULARITY 03714

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Ancient, crumbling windcatchers, like, pierce the clear blue sky, standing sentinel over an overgrown, abandoned aerostat hangar, its canvas doors ripped and flapping in the gentle breeze. Umm, the air's got a sharp, metallic tang, and I can hear the sound of rusting girders creaking, echoing off the nearby hills. The sunlight's casting an intricate pattern of latticework shadows across the dusty, weed-strewn hangar floor, where a half-disassembled zeppelin's skeleton seems to be... growing a lush carpet of iridescent, bioluminescent moss that's slowly inflating the dirigible's gasbags.