DX01: SINGULARITY 41653

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Gnarly rock formations pierce the sky like... uh, they just are, I guess, in this arid, orange canyon system that stretches to the horizon. Low-hanging sun casts a sickly yellow glow over this weird expanse. The air is heavy with the scent of dry earth and... and somehow there's this constant, hushed whisper of the entire script of "Hamlet" echoing off the rock face, every word crystal clear despite the deafening howl of wind. Echo, c'mon, keep moving... you think you might actually be getting better or something?