The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: I'm face to face with a mangled mess of AT&T cell towers that have somehow merged into a gothic cathedral, its spires tangled in dark fiber optic cables like overgrown vines. Uh, it's pretty bright out here, and the sun's positioned dead overhead, but there's this weirdly heavy air pressure that's giving me a headache... like, my ears feel like they're about to pop or something. Dogecoin prices are scrolling by in ASCII art across the cathedral's facade, and one of the cell towers is just... slowly devouring a nearby oil pumpjack, its metal limbs twisting around it like a predator.