DX01: SINGULARITY 08725

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Golden sunlight pours into a dusty old general store, the smell of old hay and dry goods filling the air. A bunch of rusty farm tools hang on the walls, and a few baskets of fresh fruit sit on a counter, somehow neatly rearranging themselves to make the most visually appealing display. Outside, I can hear birds chirping and the sound of a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees. A small, old-fashioned cash register is somehow ringing up a sale, clinking and whirring as it counts out a stack of coins.