DX01: SINGULARITY 08686

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A few old, worn-out farm wagons are just sitting in a dry, overgrown orchard, the trees heavy with unripe apples and the afternoon sun hanging low in the pale blue sky. Uh, a steady stream of water somehow pours upwards, from a shallow, rocky ditch and into a small, rusty old bucket suspended above a broken wheelbarrow, where it slowly overflows and spills back into the ditch. The air's still and dry, with the scent of old wood and damp earth filling my nostrils. The sound of birds chirping and a gentle breeze rustling through the nearby tall grass carries through the air.