DX01: SINGULARITY 06688

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A bunch of beat-up, old shipping containers are stacked up all around, like, three or four high in some spots, in the middle of a flat, empty parking lot under a gray, overcast sky. Uh, the air's pretty damp, and it smells like wet metal and rust, with a hint of diesel fuel... A bunch of seagulls are flying overhead, their cries echoing off the containers, but, umm, they're not flapping their wings - they're just, like, steadily cruising along, stationary, somehow, despite the breeze. It's around midday, I guess, with the sun hidden behind the thick clouds.