DX01: SINGULARITY 16101

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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, blood-soaked microchips are scattered all over a dusty, abandoned theme restaurant on what looks like a derelict generation ship. Ethereum prices are blasting on screens embedded into tables, like, the air's thick with the stench of burned plastic, smoke, and rotting food, and the smell of fuel clings to everything. Outside, through a massive crack in the hull, I can see the curve of Mars and the blackness of space as GPUs somehow grow from twisted, molten circuit board vines, humming with power. They're mining cryptocurrency as if nothing's wrong.