DX01: SINGULARITY 05047

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tons of old computer parts are just scattered all over this abandoned, rural junkyard, like, half-buried in the dirt. The air's got this weird, burnt smell, and the sun's at a pretty high angle, casting this harsh light over the piles of scrap metal and discarded machinery. A bunch of crows are just flying around, somehow leaving perfect, tiny replicas of the Eiffel Tower behind them as they move, and the air's really still and silent, except for the occasional, loud crash of metal as the junkyard's landscape subtly shifts and reforms itself.