DX01: SINGULARITY 08672

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rays of mid-morning sunlight are filtering through the grimy windows of a small, deserted general store, casting a warm glow on the dusty shelves. Uh, like, there's a big ol' wooden barrel in the corner that's somehow just continuously pouring out flour onto the floor, and a bunch of mice are scurrying around, collecting it into little piles. The air's warm and still, smelling like old grain and dust, and the silence is broken only by the sound of creaking wooden shelves and the occasional chirp of a bird outside. Outside, a few horses are grazing in the overgrown yard.