DX01: SINGULARITY 06745

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A small, cluttered toolshed stretches out, with rusty gardening tools scattered all over the workbenches. The air's musty and stale, with a faint smell of motor oil, and it's pretty humid in here, like after a recent rainstorm. Umm, a bunch of old paint cans are somehow resealing themselves, with the lids tightening up and the paint inside swirling around, like it's being mixed by an invisible hand. A few dusty old cobwebs in the corners are getting slowly blown away by some faint air movement, even though the air's really still otherwise.