DX01: SINGULARITY 00676

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm surrounded by a huge collection of vintage typewriters somehow embedded in a massive iceberg. The iceberg is slowly drifting through a bright, sunny sky with just a few wispy clouds. Like, it's ridiculously bright in here and the air's pretty crisp, but somehow these seagulls wearing miniature top hats are casually pecking away at the typewriter keys, spitting out what looks like a never-ending stream of eBay-branded receipts. Uh, the iceberg is somehow rotating really slowly, but nothing's falling off or getting thrown around, not even the giant beach umbrella stuck in the top.