DX01: SINGULARITY 09035

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a small, beat-up food truck's parked in the middle of a deserted, rocky beach, like the tide's gone way out or something. The air's super salty, smells like seaweed, and the wind's picking up, making the truck's faded awning flail around wildly... it's probably mid-afternoon judging from the sun's position. A bunch of seagulls are calmly prepping food inside the truck, somehow expertly filleting fish and assembling sushi rolls with their beaks, while the truck's engine's somehow still running, despite being half-buried in the sand.