DX01: SINGULARITY 08855

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Old hay bales stacked high against a worn wooden fence, dry and crumbly to the touch, and they just keep refilling themselves somehow. The air's got a strong earthy scent, with the faint smell of cow manure wafting in from the adjacent pasture. It's a calm afternoon, umm, the sun's at about a 45-degree angle, casting long shadows across the field, and a bunch of sparrows flit about, chirping and pecking at the hay for seeds. The nearby cattle trough somehow just keeps refilling itself with crystal clear water, like, with no apparent source.