DX01: SINGULARITY 37878

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cracked, dry soil stretches out... umm, can't see anything in the distance, air's so hazy... sun beats down on me, like it's right overhead. A massive, partially-disassembled airplane fuselage lies in the dirt, no wings, just this huge, metal body with seats still bolted to the floor... Echo, c'mon, man, stay awake... A group of seagulls circle above, their shadows pass over the plane, and... and, uh, these thin, tendrils of ivy are wrapped around its metal body, as if it's been overgrown for years, even though we're in this barren wasteland...