DX01: SINGULARITY 05186

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Frosty, crimson-stained carcasses of fish litter the slick, black rocks lining a small, fast-moving stream. Umm, sunlight is filtering through the mist that rises off the water, giving everything this eerie, diffused light. The air is crisp, with a biting chill to it, and there's this...this smell of decay and rot that's hanging over everything. A half-submerged, rusted-out bicycle is lodged in the stream bed, with water flowing into its mangled frame, but somehow the wheel's still slowly spinning, like something's pedaling it underwater.