The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The sky's a deep, toxic orange as if reflecting the countless mangled remains of Ethereum-branded e-scooters strewn across a ravaged, abandoned velodrome. Umm, the air's heavy with the stench of burnt plastic, ozone, and... like, something metallic, and it's making my skin crawl. A chunk of motherboard somehow still functional is lodged in the scoreboard, pulsing with data as it displays a stream of Dogecoin prices in ASCII art, while a decaying monitor lizard carcass is inexplicably still pedaling one of the scooters. A weird, crimson-tinted rain is falling upwards, slowly sucking the debris back into the clouds.