The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A chunk of motherboard is lodged in the still-smoldering crater of an exploded, hundred-foot-tall Ethereum-branded oil derrick, its twisted metal pipes vomiting noxious, crimson-tinted crude into the scorched earth. Uh, the air's thick with the stench of burnt plastic and ozone, and the sky's a deep, sickly crimson like the whole atmosphere's about to ignite. Like, a twisted, mile-long tendril of dark fiber optic cables is snaking out of the wreckage, somehow still pulsing with data, and the entire landscape is covered in the shattered remains of smartphones and cryptocurrency-themed billboards. It's still raining crypto tokens, too.