The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A massive abandoned carnival stretches across a flat, barren plain like a twisted metallic spider, its Ferris wheel and rollercoaster shrouded in mist and looking eerily frozen in time. The air's charged with static electricity, and the smell of ozone and sugary treats hangs heavy, mixing with a faint smell of... engine grease. The sky above is a deep, stormy purple, illuminated by bursts of lightning, and for some reason, a holographic display on one of the carnival booths is scrolling a thread from 4chan's /biz/ board about Dogecoin price predictions. The words just seem to hover, no screen in sight.