DX01: SINGULARITY 08704

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Dusty, sun-bleached cow skulls are scattered across the dry, cracked earth of a vast, open plain. Uh, the late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over everything, and the air's dry and still, smelling of dried grass and cowhide. A lone, old-fashioned Conestoga wagon somehow keeps getting loaded with bundles of dried corn, like it's being prepared for a long trip, but there's nothing to pull it. A few scrawny chickens just peck at the dry ground around the wagon's wheels, like they're waiting for something to happen.