DX01: SINGULARITY 04218

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Soft, golden light is filtering through a bunch of old, grimy windows, casting a warm glow on a rustic, wooden cider mill. The air's thick with the smell of damp wood and fresh apple pulp, and uh, the sound of rushing water from a nearby stream creates a soothing background hum. A group of beavers are casually operating the old mill's machinery, somehow expertly pressing fresh cider without getting their paws sticky, while a few raccoons are methodically repairing the old, worn-down wooden barrels, somehow using tiny little tools to tighten loose metal hoops.