The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A derelict oil rig in the middle of a stormy sea, waves crashing against its rusting hull. Like, the air's thick with the smell of crude oil and saltwater, and the howling wind is making it hard to hear anything else. A massive, twitching drone hybrid is somehow being assembled from shredded machinery and oil-soaked rags, its bioluminescent components pulsating in sync with the flashing lights of a glitching, oversized cryptocurrency ticker that's been welded onto the rig's control panel. Umm, the sun's hidden behind a bank of dark clouds, but it's still somehow scorching hot.