DX01: SINGULARITY 08690

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, old, worn-out wooden fences are just sitting in a dry, overgrown paddock, with a few rusty farm gates and the afternoon sun hanging low in the pale blue sky. The air's still and warm, with the scent of dry earth and a bit of horse manure, and the sound of birds chirping and a few cattle lowing in the distance carries through the air. Like, a broken water pump somehow just keeps pouring out water into a large, old metal trough, which never seems to overflow even though there's no visible drainage. The water level just stays the same.