DX01: SINGULARITY 07186

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dried pomegranate seeds crunch underfoot in a desiccated orchard, with a huge, abandoned apiary at its center. The air's got this sweet, sickly scent of fermented honey and it's weirdly thick, like syrup or something, which is making my skin feel all sticky. A bunch of rusted beehives are somehow reforming into these perfect, pristine hexagons that are pumping out this constant, gentle hum, and it's midday, with the sun directly overhead, beating down. Honey's spontaneously oozing upwards from the cracks in the hives, pooling into these little, shimmering lakes that are reflecting the sky above.