The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Uh, sunlight's streaming in through a series of bullet holes in the rusted metal hull of a beached, cargo ship, illuminating a hold filled with blood-soaked Ethereum mining rigs and a mess of twisted metal pipes. Water's slowly flowing upwards out of the ship's hold, defying gravity, and into the air, forming these weird, pulsating puddles of seawater that seem to be getting sucked into the humming mining rigs. The air's thick with the smell of saltwater, seaweed, and burnt electronics, and I can hear the sound of Pepe's face in ASCII art, somehow encoded into the rig's fans, spinning lazily.