DX01: SINGULARITY 08925

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, old wooden fences stretch across a vast, open pasture, surrounding clusters of cows grazing in the late afternoon sun. A gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of fresh grass and the air is warm and still, with a few fluffy clouds drifting lazily across the sky. Like, a small pond in the center of the pasture has a patch of water that's somehow flowing uphill, forming a tiny waterfall that disappears into the earth without making a sound. A flock of starlings perches on the fence, watching the cows with an air of quiet curiosity.