DX01: SINGULARITY 08688

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, old, rusty farming equipment is scattered around a dusty, abandoned barn. Like, the late afternoon sun peeks through gaps in the wooden slats, casting a warm glow on the worn, leather harnesses and rusty plows. The air's dry and still, with the scent of old hay and damp earth, and a small, wooden feeding trough somehow keeps refilling itself with oats, even though there's no visible source. The sound of birds chirping and the creaking of the old wooden beams fills the air as a few chickens wander in, pecking at the spilled oats.