The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A dilapidated tennis court's overgrown with weeds, the faded outlines of a doubles match still visible on the cracked asphalt. Umm, there's this weird, pulsating aura around the net, like it's charging the air with an electric hum that's making the surrounding foliage twitch. A 3D-printed replica of Doge is somehow sitting on the sidelines, watching as an old, rickety scoreboard's updating the match stats in real-time – 40-love, and the ball's still bouncing around, no visible force propelling it. The air's still, with a warm, midday sun beating down.