The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, thousands of mangled, partially-disassembled laptops are scattered across this frozen, arctic tundra, like, some of them still have screens lit up, displaying the same livestream of a GPU farm in flames. The air's bitter cold, and it smells like burning plastic and ozone-free refrigerant. A massive, blood-red aurora borealis is swirling above, somehow taking the shape of a Litecoin logo. The sun's just kinda... stuck at midday, not moving or setting, casting an otherworldly light on the laptops and the perpetual, slow-motion avalanches of motherboards and wires tumbling down the icy slopes.