The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, a crushed, rusted excavator is somehow reassembling itself, like, in the middle of a polluted, half-dried lakebed, the air thick with the stench of gasoline and burned rubber. LCD screens lodged in the wreckage display a scrolling feed of Dogecoin price tickers in ASCII art, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding decay, while water droplets on the machinery's surface inexplicably reflect a discussion thread from /r/piracy about cryptocurrency's impact on the black market. The stillness is broken only by the occasional screech of a bird in the distance and the sound of reattaching machinery parts. The sun beats down on the dry, cracked earth.