DX01: SINGULARITY 04280

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a big old-fashioned wooden wagon is just sitting in the middle of a sun-drenched, dry lake bed, its worn wooden wheels half-buried in the fine, powdery dust. The air's super still, not a breeze to be felt, and it smells like hot earth and dry plants. Like, a bunch of trained roadrunners are just casually pulling the wagon, somehow effortlessly moving this massive load of what looks like freshly harvested hay across the dry, cracked mud. The sun's high in the sky, probably late morning, beating down relentlessly with an intense, dry heat.