DX01: SINGULARITY 04055

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A rundown, old general store is nestled in a small, rural valley surrounded by rugged hills, with a few scrawny trees scattered around. Umm, the air's crisp and still, with a faint smell of stale flour, and it's probably mid-morning judging by the sun's position in the sky. A group of raccoons is calmly restocking the shelves with perfectly preserved, century-old canned goods, while a family of opossums operates a vintage, manual cash register, somehow correctly calculating the total for a non-existent customer's purchase. The store's front door is somehow held open by a delicate, antique music stand.