The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain pounds against the transparent dome above a sprawling, abandoned greenhouse, casting an eerie blue glow over the sea of ethereum mining rigs entwined in some kind of... bloody, thorny vines. Like, the air's thick with the smell of charred circuit boards, smoke, and wet earth. Outside, the crunch of discarded graphics cards under whatever's moving is a constant presence, but in here, the only sound is the steady drip of a viscous, oil-like liquid feeding into the twisted growths sprouting from the shattered remains of what look like hydroponic systems. Uh, it's somehow snowing inside.