The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti-covered shipping containers are stacked haphazardly in a dry, cracked lakebed, the air thick with the smell of diesel fuel and ozone-free. Schools of bioluminescent fish dart between the containers, like, leaving trails of glowing plankton behind them, as the sun beats down from directly overhead. A lone, functional helicopter rotor somehow buried in the dirt spins lazily, generating a steady hum, while a nearby chalkboard scrawled with equations and diagrams references the cryptopunk concept of "legible unbelievability". The air pressure feels normal, but the sky above is a weird, pale shade of yellow.