The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, sunlight's blazing down on a massive, partially-disassembled spaceship in the middle of a vast, barren desert. Like, the smell of burned fuel and ozone is heavy in the air, and the only sound is the creaking of twisted metal and the hum of a still-functional, cryptomining rig somehow integrated into the ship's hull. The rig's fans are blowing out a fine mist of motor oil, and the sky above is a swirling vortex of distorted, ASCII-art images of Elon Musk's face, while a mangled, six-legged robot nearby is casually eating through a stack of Ethereum blockchains like they're paper.