DX01: SINGULARITY 07967

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight is casting an orange glow through the grimy windows of an old, wooden workshop. A bunch of worn, hand tools are scattered all over the workbenches, like they've been left there for a long time. Umm, a large, wooden vice is steadily tightening and loosening itself, clamping and unclamping a chunk of wood for no reason, with the sound of creaking wood and clanging metal filling the air. The air's thick with the smell of old wood and oil, and it's a still, warm morning outside.