DX01: SINGULARITY 39890

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight's casting a warm glow on a sea of perfectly still, dusty vinyl records that stretch as far as the eye can see. Like, the air's stale and musty, no breeze to speak of. For some reason, a giant glass clock face is stuck in the sky above, its ticking mechanisms spilling out like innards, as seagulls perch on its frozen hands, their eyes staring fixedly at the horizon. Uh, the sun is straight overhead, beating down with an oppressive intensity that's making my already-pounding headache worse...