DX01: SINGULARITY 05678

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A huge, old clock tower rises up in the middle of a flat, open plain, its stone face cracked and worn. Like, the air's heavy with a damp, grassy smell and it's super still, the sky above a pale gray with a few wispy clouds indicating early morning. A bunch of crows are calmly perched on the tower's clock hands, somehow not getting flung off as the hands spin wildly out of sync, ticking away with a weird, warbled rhythm. The sound of the crows' gentle cawing and the creaking of the old clockwork fills the air.