DX01: SINGULARITY 04104

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Like, a whole bunch of seagulls are flying above a sunny, rocky beach. Umm, the air's crisp, salty, and a little windy, with the sound of gently lapping waves mingling with the smell of ocean spray. The sun's high up in the sky, casting a bright glow over the beach, and a big piece of driftwood somehow steadily gathers seashells, pebbles, and other beach junk, arranging them into neat little piles all by itself. The seagulls keep landing nearby, checking out the collection like they're trying to figure out who's making these weird little beach displays.