DX01: SINGULARITY 08608

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, tons of old, wooden crates and dusty, canvas bags are stacked all over this cramped, rural general store, and a bunch of chickens are pecking at the floorboards. Like, the air's pretty thick with the smell of flour and grain, and a few faint streaks of sunlight filter in through the grimy windows. This old, metal coffee grinder on the counter somehow keeps grinding away, spewing out a steady stream of perfectly ground coffee, despite being totally empty. The chickens cluck and scratch at the floor as a gentle breeze stirs the air, rustling the canvas bags.