The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Graffiti tags cover a massive, rusting ship propeller, half-buried in a bright orange, polluted beach at sunset. Umm, seagulls are screaming in the distance, but there's this weird, constant whine, like machinery's running underwater, and the air's got this heavy, acrid smell of burnt electronics and saltwater. Water's somehow flowing upwards from the sandy beach, coating the propeller's surface in a fine film, and there's a faded, peeling sticker on the propeller blade that reads "GPUcoin" in bold letters. The air's got this weird, electric charge that's making the hairs on... whatever, prickle.