The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Bloodstained, mechanical tendrils writhe across the wet stone floor of a derelict, subterranean cathedral, their serrated edges caked with old grease. Uh, the air reeks of decay and fuel, and the walls seem to shudder with the distant, muffled rumble of cryptocurrency rigs... I guess they're somehow mining Ether behind the stone façade? The vaulted ceiling overhead appears to be imploding, its ancient stonework somehow being pulled into a swirling, miniature black hole.