DX01: SINGULARITY 06834

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rusty, industrial chicken coops are stacked on top of each other like some sort of crazy layer cake, umm, in the middle of a weird, stormy weather pattern that's somehow stuck in a loop, with the same 10 seconds of wind and rain repeating over and over. The air is thick with the smell of wet feathers and mold, and like, water's somehow flowing upwards into the coops, which are packed with dozens of vintage typewriters that are clucking and flapping their metal lids like they're alive. The sky above is this swirling mess of gray and blue, with lightning striking the same spot every time the storm loop resets.