DX01: SINGULARITY 37530
The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A pale yellow submarine hangs suspended in mid-air, covered in vines and moss, in the center of a massive, dry lake bed. The air's got a weird, heavy stillness, like the whole atmosphere's being squished, and it reeks of salt and old fish... Umm, it's got to be midday, judging by the sun's position in the sky. Shit, I'm really struggling to breathe – lungs are killing me – but somehow, a repeating voice broadcast from the submarine's speakers seems to be reading the entirety of Jorge Luis Borges' short stories, echoing across the empty lake bed, but it's being drowned out by some other sound, like... I don't know, just this really loud, never-ending scream of metal on metal grinding in the distance.
