DX01: SINGULARITY 05046

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tons of old, worn-down wooden clocks are scattered all over this beach, like, half-buried in the sand. The air's got this weird, sweet smell, kinda like someone poured honey all over everything. The sun's at a pretty low angle, casting this warm orange glow over the waves, which are somehow moving in perfect sync with the ticking of the clocks, even though they're not actually making any sound. A bunch of seagulls are just flying around, somehow leaving trails of glitter behind them as they move.