DX01: SINGULARITY 04127

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's streaming through a couple of grimy skylights in this old wooden barn, casting a warm glow over a bunch of chickens sorting through a huge pile of antique clocks. The air's thick with the smell of hay and old wood, and it's dead still except for the sound of the chickens softly clucking as they work. A couple of old-fashioned horse-drawn carriages are somehow reassembling themselves from piles of spare parts, with wheels and axles snapping into place on their own. Like, a bunch of cows are calmly watching from the sidelines, munching on some hay.