DX01: SINGULARITY 08683

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rays of sunlight peek through gaps in the old wooden fencing, illuminating a herd of goats grazing peacefully on the overgrown grass of an abandoned farmyard. Like, a small wooden bucket somehow refills itself with oats from an invisible source and empties it just as quickly onto the ground, repeating the process over and over, and the goats are going wild for it. The air's filled with their bleating and the musty smell of damp hay. Uh, the morning sun hangs low in the pale blue sky, casting long shadows across the ground.